I'll Be Watching You
by Enthusiastic Fish
Summary: Tim-centered horror story written for DNAchemLia for the NFA SeSa Fic Exchange. A childhood terror re-emerges in the midst of a case, leaving everyone questioning Tim's sanity...including Tim himself. 11 chapters. Now complete
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** I wrote this story for the NFA SeSa Fic Exchange. The quote below is the prompt I was given, and it was written for DNAchemLia, who loves supernatural and horror stories. So this is a horror story of sorts. It plays off a fear that I myself have had to varying degrees since I was young. There is a case in this, but it's definitely a horror story, using a lot of the classic horror story motifs...but without the gore. :)

**Disclaimer:** I do not now, nor have I ever, owned NCIS, and I'm making no money off this story.

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><p><strong>I'll Be Watching You<br>**by Enthusiastic Fish

"It's not a matter of whether or not someone's watching over you. It's just a question of their intentions."  
>Randy K. Milholland<p>

**Chapter 1: Prologue**

_27 years ago..._

"Tim, where have you been?"

Tim shrugged. "In the bathroom."

"What for?"

"I was playing with Mit!"

"Who's Mit?"

"He lives in the mirror. He's me, backwards!" Tim grinned.

"Tim, that's only your reflection."

"I know."

His mother knelt on the floor in front of him. "Tim, I know this move has been hard for you, but you won't make any friends if you stay inside all day, staring into a mirror."

"But...but some of the kids out there aren't nice. Mit is there every time I look in the mirror."

"Tim, you need to make some real friends. Not everyone is going to be nice, but that's always the way it is. Actually, I was just about to go next door and meet our neighbors. Why don't you come with me?"

"But I promised Mit I'd go back!"

"Tim, Mit is just your reflection. He's not real."

"Okay." Tim took a deep breath and nodded.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

_Two years later..._

The Christmas tree was beautiful that year. Tim's dad was actually home for Christmas, and with a new baby in the home, it was nice to feel the peace and contentment that came from being together as a family.

Janene paused as she glanced at the Christmas tree. There was a new present. When had it been put there? Wait, there were _two_ new presents. She knelt down and picked them up one at a time.

_To Tim. From Mit_

_To Mit. From Tim_

She was surprised to see the presents. She had thought that Tim was over all that nonsense.

"Timothy!" she called.

"Yeah?"

"Come in here, please."

"I can't!"

"Why not?"

"I'm...playing with Mit."

"Timothy McGee, you get right in here this minute!"

Her demand was rewarded by running feet. Tim came into the room and saw the presents in Janene's hands.

"What is this, Tim?" Janene asked.

"Christmas presents," Tim whispered.

"Tim, we've talked about this. You can't keep pretending there's a person in the mirror. You're taking these back to the store."

Tim's eyes widened and he seemed almost afraid. He shook his head.

"I can't!"

"Can't? Why not?"

Tim looked around and then leaned in close to her with the expression of one about to reveal a protected secret.

"Mit will be mad at me," he whispered.

Janene looked at Tim with growing concern. This wasn't an act. Tim was genuinely afraid. More than that, he seemed actually terrified at the prospect.

"Tim, there is no Mit."

Tim's lower lip began to tremble. "Y-Y-Yes, there is. I thought...I thought he was my friend, but...I don't like him anymore!" He started to cry. "I'm scared of him, Mommy! I don't like him...but he's in all the mirrors and I can't get away!"

Janene quickly put down the presents and took Tim in her arms. He was shaking with fear and he hadn't called her 'Mommy' in ages.

"He makes me do things, things I don't want to do...but I have to..."

"Tim, it's just your reflection. It's not..."

Tim nodded and buried his face in her shoulder. "Yeah...my reflection. He's my reflection!"

That Tim was terrified, Janene couldn't deny...but _why_? What had changed his imaginary friend into something so sinister? ...and what in the world could she do about it?

"Tim?"

No reply.

"Can you let go of me, just for a minute?"

Tim did, albeit reluctantly. He looked around the room again. No mirrors in this room, and Janene remembered, now, that he'd been spending a _lot_ of time in here, even ignoring his computer (the monitor would act like a mirror), choosing instead to read detective novels. How had she missed this cultivated terror?

She walked into the kitchen and picked up the phone. She called Michael and told him about Tim's sudden fear as quietly as she could.

Michael was home in ten minutes.

That evening, they sat with Tim in the living room. Janene was holding Sarah in her arms, rocking her...as Tim sat close to his father, telling in great detail all the things that "Mit" had said and done.

Afraid, not of "Mit" but that Tim was suffering from some kind of mental illness, Michael and Janene chose to take him to a psychiatrist.

The first of many visits.

...and in the meantime, they took down all the mirrors in the house except in their own bathroom.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

_Six months later..._

"Okay, Tim. It's time to try it."

Tim shook his head over and over again.

"No. I don't want to...see him."

"He can't hurt you."

"Yes, he can! Just because you can't see what he does doesn't mean he can't hurt me!"

"Tim, listen to me. We've talked about this a lot. Remember that Mit only has as much power as _you_ give him. If you tell him that you won't play with him anymore, won't _see_ him anymore, then your reflection will go back to being just your reflection. I'll be right here with you. You just need to look into the mirror and tell Mit that you don't like him anymore and that you don't want to see him anymore."

Tim shook his head again.

"Don't let him see that you're afraid. Just tell him."

Tim looked down and then nodded.

"...but he won't come if you're here. Mit only comes out when I'm alone."

"All right. I'll be right outside the door."

"Okay."

Tim took hold of the hand mirror and looked at the psychiatrist. He nodded encouragingly and then stepped out of the office. Tim took a breath and looked in the mirror.

"I..."

He almost started to cry.

"I don't like you, Mit! You're mean! You're bad! And I'm not going to play with you anymore! Stay away! Go away! I don't want you in my mirrors!"

Then, Tim threw down the mirror and it shattered into pieces. He backed away from it and hid in the corner. His parents and the psychiatrist came in and his parents comforted him until he stopped crying.

Two days later, they found Tim walking down the middle of the road at three in the morning. He was asleep. When they woke him up, he told them that Mit was trying to take him away to his place and that he hadn't wanted to go.

Back to the psychiatrist.

Another year of therapy and they had convinced Tim that there was no Mit, that his reflection was just his reflection, that there was no evil twin lurking and trying to take him away from his family.

When it came down to determining the cause of Tim's hallucinations, the psychiatrist said that they needed to get him some hobbies, that Tim needed stability rather than moving to different bases every few years, and that they needed to make sure he had friends.

They took his advice to heart and Michael decided to take a desk job. It was a comedown for him, but if Tim's mental health depended on it, it was worth it.

Tim had nightmares sometimes, and occasionally, he would walk in his sleep, but those events decreased in frequency as he got older. He was never particularly popular in school. He was teased and bullied because of his awkward, quiet ways, but he was able to persevere.

...and Mit eventually faded from his mind, becoming nothing more than a vague, disturbing memory.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

_Present..._

_Freedom. Yesssss. Freedom. Too many years penned up. Too many years alone. Too many years trapped. Freedom!_

_Now, to seek. To find._

_Revenge!_

Tim woke up with a deep breath and looked around his room. Jethro was awake and growling. He couldn't see any reason for it. But he got out of bed and crouched by his dog. As soon as he touched Jethro's head, the growling stopped and Jethro licked at his face.

"What's wrong, Jethro? You having the same dream I was having?"

Jethro just whuffled at him. Tim smiled and shook his head.

That voice he'd heard. So familiar...like he'd heard it before...long ago.

Then, he shook himself. It was only a particularly vivid dream. That was all. Sinister, yes, but nothing more than a dream. He was awake; so he decided to get up even though it was a little early.

He stumbled a bit into the bathroom. When he got to the sink, he bent over to get his toothbrush, and when he looked up...

Tim spun around to look behind him. Then, back at the mirror. For just a moment, he could have sworn there was someone standing behind him. There was nothing now...but... He turned around again and there was still nothing behind him.

"Must be half asleep still," Tim muttered to himself and focused on getting ready for the day. He brushed his teeth, shaved, showered. He took Jethro out to do his business before feeding him and leaving for work.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim sat down at his desk and booted up his computer. As he stared idly at the monitor, he suddenly saw a pair of eyes...an extra pair. Not his reflection but...someone else. He let out a rather undignified exclamation and pushed back from his computer.

"What is it, McGee?" Ziva asked.

"Did the little Probie see a spider?" Tony asked, teasingly.

"No...just...must have..." Tim looked at the monitor again. All he could see was his own reflection in it. "...must have drifted off. Thought I saw...I don't know."

"That was nice and clear, McGee," Tony said. "Thanks for explaining yourself."

Tim laughed. "Sorry, Tony. I woke up early this morning. Must just be on the wrong kilter today...or something."

"Yeah, or something."

As the day continued, Tim felt a bit unsettled. He couldn't figure out why, but it was as if he had forgotten something very important, something that was vital for him to remember. It was just out of his grasp.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

_Three days later..._

"Man, Probie, what's _up _with you?" Tony asked when Tim dragged himself off the elevator.

"I told you yesterday, Tony," Tim mumbled in reply and sank down onto his chair. He booted up his computer without much enthusiasm...and even less energy.

"You are still not sleeping?" Ziva asked. "Why not?"

"If I could figure _that_ out, I'd be fixing it," Tim retorted, but without much fire. "I took a taxi in this morning. Didn't trust myself to stay awake on the commute."

"Well, what are you doing about it, McGee?"

"I have an appointment with my doctor today," Tim said. "It's weird. I've had trouble sleeping before, but not like this."

"What is it like, then?" Ziva asked.

Tim actually was able to laugh a little. "Like I'm a little kid again, afraid of monsters under the bed. I close my eyes and my heart starts pounding."

"You were afraid of monsters under the bed, Probie?" Tony asked with a grin.

"Actually, no," Tim said, a memory slowly emerging. "I wasn't."

Knowing that Tim was going to the doctor took the edge off any concern they'd been feeling...allowing for a little bit of gentle teasing.

"So what _did_ frighten you, McGee?" Ziva asked. "If the monsters were not under the bed, where were they?"

"Well...actually, they were in the mirrors."

"You were scared of your own reflection?" Tony asked. He pretended to scrutinize Tim's face. "Yeah, I can see that. Looking at yourself every day must have been terrifying...in fact, it scares _me_ to look at you."

Tim laughed along with Tony and Ziva, but he looked at his reflection in the monitor and wondered why he had suddenly remembered it...and why an old nightmare filled him with such dread.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"Timothy McGee?"

Tim jumped in surprise at the voice. He'd almost dozed off for the hundredth time that day. Gibbs had taken one look at him and temporarily confined him to his desk. Tim hadn't had the energy to protest at all.

"That's me," he said.

"Dr. Tragen will see you now."

"Thanks." Yawning, Tim got to his feet and walked into the office. Dr. Tragen gestured to the exam table. He sat down.

"Well, Tim, you said you were having trouble with insomnia and I can see just by looking at you that you're right. Any major stressors come on suddenly in the last few days?"

"No. That's what's so weird. I had a creepy dream a few nights ago, but since then, I haven't been able to get to sleep at all. I can't explain it."

"Okay. What was in your dream?"

"Not much. Some voice in the dark saying that he's going to get revenge."

"Revenge for what?"

"I don't know. I don't even know who the voice was supposed to belong to."

"Okay. So what's been happening when you go to bed? Physically speaking."

"That's the other weird thing. It's like I'm scared of something. My heart starts pounding and I get tense." Tim smiled. "I'm even affecting my dog. Sometimes, he starts whining during the night."

Dr. Tragen returned the smile. "Well, we can't have that, now can we." He took a deep breath and sat back to think for a moment. "Okay, Tim. Let's do a full exam and we'll take some blood for testing. This is probably just a case of acute insomnia. You've had times like this since I've been your doctor. Since I know that your job requires being well-rested and at your best, I'll just prescribe a few more nights of the sleeping pills that worked before. Zolpidem, if I remember correctly. Remember, though, that you need to make sure that you give yourself enough time for a full night of sleep; otherwise, you'll likely be drowsy in the morning, and that's no good either."

"Right. Thanks, Dr. Tragen."

The exam was inconclusive, but Dr. Tragen promised that his office would call Tim when the results of his blood tests were in. Confident that he would at least be sleeping again, even if the cause of his insomnia wasn't immediately known, Tim headed to his local pharmacy to fill the prescription.

He _had_ been plagued by short bouts of insomnia in the past, actually even _before_ he'd started at NCIS. He would go for a few days without being able to sleep...and when he'd been in college, there had even been a couple of times that his roommates had caught him sleepwalking. They'd told him the most outrageous stories about what he'd done, including once that he'd insisted he was going to another world and had gotten really angry with them when they'd stopped him from leaving the apartment. He didn't remember any of it and he was pretty sure that they were putting him on to some degree. Still...he wished he understood why.

When he got to his apartment, he could hear Jethro whining inside. Worried that his dog might be about to have an accident of some sort, Tim quickly unlocked the door and opened it.

...but Jethro didn't dart past him to get outside. Instead, he began winding around Tim's legs, clearly distressed. Tim knelt on the floor.

"What is it, Jethro? What's wrong?"

Instantly, Jethro began nuzzling and licking at Tim's face, whining all the while.

...and he didn't want to go back into the apartment.

Tim wondered if there was someone inside...but Jethro didn't normally whine about an invader. He growled. Carefully, Tim pulled out his gun and stepped into his apartment. Jethro stayed in the hallway, whining more loudly. As he walked through his apartment, a place he'd lived in for years, it felt strange to him...a different aura...but a strangely familiar one at the same time.

"Hello?" he called out.

No answer...as he'd expected, but the silence was oppressive.

A walkthrough of the entire apartment, including his closet, revealed nothing...and yet, Tim himself wasn't sure about this.

"Jethro!"

More whining.

Tim turned on all the lights.

"Come on in, Jethro! It's safe!"

It was with clear reluctance that the German shepherd reentered the apartment.

"Did something scare you while I was gone today? I'm sorry. We'll stick it out together, okay? Once I get my sleeping back under control, we'll both feel better."

Jethro didn't seem convinced...and Tim couldn't help but agree with him. Still, he needed his sleep. He changed his clothes and took Jethro out for a quick walk. Then, they went back inside, but still, Jethro wasn't happy. Tim fed his dog and fed himself.

Then, he took his pill for the night and climbed in bed.

Jethro started whining again.

"You want to sleep up here with me?" Tim asked.

Jethro took that as an invitation and leapt onto the bed. He turned around and around and then settled right beside Tim.

To Tim's surprise, he didn't close his eyes. Instead, he acted like he was on guard. ...guarding Tim.

"What's going on, Jethro? Man, I wish you could actually speak. I'm not good at reading that doggy face of yours."

Jethro licked _Tim's_ face and then went back to his business...of guarding his master from some unknown danger.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Jethro didn't sleep that night. He lay his head on Tim's chest and stared at the bathroom. When the door began to rattle slightly, as if in a slight breeze, he growled softly.

Tim, in his drug-induced slumber, only mumbled a little bit in reaction. Otherwise, nothing.

Jethro's instincts called him to confront the danger...but he knew somehow that he needed to stay _with_ his master.

The door to the main room rattle slightly.

Jethro whined, but stayed in his position.

Then, suddenly, Tim sat up in bed, disturbing Jethro from his position. His eyes were closed, but he was starting to get out of bed. Somehow, Jethro knew that was a bad idea. He pressed his paws against his master's chest and licked his face. He whuffled.

After a few seconds, Tim lay back down. Jethro resettled his head on Tim's chest.

The doors rattled...and Jethro growled.

All through the night.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

_One week later..._

Tim jolted awake. There was a reason for that. He was in a fountain...and boy, was it _cold_. He sat up and looked around...and for a few seconds had no idea at all where he was. He clambered out of the fountain and started shivering. No, it wasn't snowing at the moment, but it was late enough in the year that it was _really_ cold...and the water was cold.

...and Tim was cold.

"What am I doing here?" he whispered aloud.

He looked down at himself. He was fully dressed, and when he searched his pockets, he came up with a Metro pass stamped with five cents left on it and his phone. Five cents? And he saw that there had been ten dollars on it initially. Where had he gone?

Where was he now?

He looked around the area and then finally he recognized the fountain. Meridian Hill Park. That was quite a ways from home. A long walk since he didn't seem to have any money at all.

He tried turning on his phone and was relieved that it worked. He wondered who he should call. Abby? No. She'd be very sympathetic but she wouldn't leave him alone. Ziva? Wait, she'd gone somewhere over the weekend and would only barely be back if she was at all. Definitely not calling Gibbs. That really only left Tony. Sure, he could maybe call Ducky, but that didn't seem like a good idea, not at...whatever late hour it was.

Tony. He'd never let Tim live it down, but if he could make it seem like a stupid event, Tony would tease him but wouldn't try to get him to explain.

He was starting to shiver even more as he dialed Tony's number. It was really cold.

"_Yeah? What?"_ came Tony's sleepy voice.

"Hey...T-Tony. C-Could you do me a couple of favors?"

"_What?"_

"First, don't ask any questions and second...c-come and pick me up and give me a r-ride back to my place."

"_Where are you?"_

"Uh...Meridian Hill Park."

"_Where's that?"_

"16th Street. It's that park with the statue of...Joan of Arc... and, uh, the...big f-fountain."

"_Why are you there?"_

"Can you give me a ride or not, Tony?" Tim asked.

A moment of silence...and Tim lost his nerve.

"N-Nevermind. I'll find my own way back. It's not very far...just a few miles I..."

"_Hold on there, Probie! It's three in the morning and you're talking about walking a few miles? How many?"_

"Uh...not sure really," Tim said. "Probably about five."

He heard a chuckle. _"You're not walking five miles at this time of night. I'll come."_

"You don't have to."

"_Yeah, I do. You owe me."_

"Okay, fine," Tim said. He was starting to feel...strange...even more strange that he had at the realization of where he was. It was like he wasn't alone, even though he couldn't see anyone else there. "Whatever." He hung up and started looking around. A few short steps back to the fountain and he looked down into the water.

The continual flow disturbed the reflection, but then, suddenly...

Tim backed away from the water in a rush...and his own voice from years before echoed in his mind.

"_He's my reflection!"_

"Mit..." Tim whispered, now _really_ weirded out. "No...that was just a dream, just my imagination...my fears because we were moving around so much. That's all it was." He said that, but he remembered now how convinced he'd been that Mit was real. Part of him wanted to walk back to the fountain to prove to himself that Mit wasn't there...but he couldn't do it.

And he was shivering more now than he'd been before. He started rubbing at his arms as his teeth chattered. He told himself it was the cold, not fear...but he kept staring toward the fountain, as if he was afraid that his childhood terror would suddenly rise up out of the water and...and what? What had it been that had terrified him so much?

"He was going to take me to his world," Tim said, again speaking aloud. "And it wasn't a good place to be."

...which was putting it mildly.

"No, it's ridiculous. It's not real. It's just because of the sleeping pills. That's all it is."

Still, Tim couldn't deny that he was terrified. He couldn't deny that he was terribly afraid. He actually felt like crying, but he told himself that he was made of sterner stuff than that.

Even so, he had never been happier to see Tony's car...not even when Tony rolled down his window and shouted at him.

"Get in, Probie. I'm not staying up any longer than I have to."

Tim didn't care about that. He hurried over and got in, shaking violently.

"Can you turn on the heat?"

"You look like you're an icicle, McGee. What happened? You go swimming in the fountain?"

"Not swimming," Tim said and put his frozen hands right up against the vent. He let them warm up for a few seconds and then pressed them against his face, not caring how ridiculous he looked.

"Wait...you _were_ in the fountain?"

"Yes. Tony, no questions, okay? I'm tired. I'm cold. I just want to go home."

"No way, Probie. This...you can't expect me not to ask questions. I'm not _that_ groggy. Or is that what you were hoping?"

Tim sighed...and then reached over and turned the heat up as high as it would go...and he refused to look at his reflection in the window...because he'd caught a glimpse and he was trying to convince himself that he wasn't seeing anything there...even though he was.

"Yo, McGee! What's going _on_? You call me out of nowhere and I find out that you were swimming in the fountain? In December? Are you crazy?"

Tony had no idea how uncertain the answer to that question was.

"I wasn't swimming. I told you that already."

"Then, what were you doing? I'm not driving anywhere until you at least tell me what you were doing."

"I..." Tim sighed. "I don't know what I was doing in the fountain, Tony. I woke up there."

"Woke _up_ there? You out drinking, McGee? Cause if you were, that's not nice leaving me out of it."

"I wasn't drinking. I went to bed early like I have been for the last week. I went to bed. I woke up in the fountain."

"You're not acting very upset about this."

"Not the first time."

"You wake up in fountains a lot?"

"No...not really. It's not the first time I ever walked in my sleep, though."

"Walked in your sleep?" Tony exclaimed. "Walking in your sleep is...stumbling around the house and waking up on your couch or the floor. It's not walking five miles and falling into a fountain in the middle of the winter!"

"I didn't walk."

"I thought you said you didn't remember."

This was going where Tim really didn't want to go, but he had no choice. Maybe he _should_ have called Ducky instead.

"I don't...but I had a Metro pass in my pocket. It had about five cents on it."

"Wait. You rode the Metro in your sleep?"

"Looks like it."

"McGee, that's..."

"Weird."

"Freaky."

"Yeah. I know. I just want to go to bed. It's just the sleeping pills I've been taking. That's all. It's happened before and..."

"You've taken sleeping pills before?"

Tim mentally kicked himself.

"Yeah."

"When?"

"A few times. I get insomnia for a few days. I take some pills. It goes away. I move on."

"Whoa. Whoa, now. This has happened before?"

"I never made it out the door before...well...not for a long time."

Tony started the car and headed for Tim's place.

"When was the last time?"

"I was only a kid. Maybe...Maybe ten years old."

"What happened?"

"It doesn't matter, Tony. It hasn't happened since then. My roommates stopped me the last time."

"So...you were going to leave."

"Apparently. It's really not a big deal."

"Yeah. Sure."

Tony didn't say anything else, but Tim wasn't sure that was the end of it. He kept his eyes down. Every time they passed under a streetlight, he could see his reflection in the window.

_It's only my reflection. That's all._

"_He's my reflection!"_

Tim took a deep breath and let it out slowly. As they neared his apartment, he began to warm up, but still, he felt chilled. When they arrived Tim opened the door.

"Thanks for the ride, Tony. I really do owe you. It would have taken me forever to get home."

Tony opened his own car door and got out. Tim did the same and looked at him quizzically.

"I'm not going to lose my way, Tony. You don't have to follow me. It's late...or early. You could get a few more hours of sleep."

Tony just gestured, keeping strangely mum. Tim looked at him in confusion but then shrugged. If Tony wanted to verify that Tim could walk into his own home by himself, the more power to him. As he walked up the stairs, he found his own pace slowing.

_I don't want to go in there,_ he thought to himself...which, again, was stupid.

His door was ajar when he got to it...and he could hear Jethro whimpering inside. Something about that made him really worried. He hurried ahead of Tony and into his apartment. He followed the sounds into the bathroom and found Jethro on the floor. Instantly, he forgot everything else.

"Jethro!" he said and knelt down. "What's wrong?"

His dog was lying on his side. Tim couldn't see any blood, but Jethro was clearly in pain. He started to feel for any injury. When he got to the abdominal region, Jethro's whining became a sharp yelp.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry, Jethro," Tim said. He didn't know why, but he felt as though this was his fault. "It's okay. I'll take you to the vet. It'll be okay."

Tim got to his feet and gasped in surprise. Tony was right there.

"Calm down, McGee."

"I don't have time for this, Tony," Tim said. "I've got to get Jethro to the vet."

Tony laughed. "You're not driving, Probie."

"Why not?"

"Because you've taken prescription sleeping pills. I'll bet it hasn't been eight hours yet."

"I feel very awake. You don't have to worry."

"Well, maybe not, but you're not going to be stupid about this. Get him to my car. I'm up; so I can do it."

Tim nodded reluctantly. He urged Jethro to his feet and helped him toward the door.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim returned to his apartment, still with Tony in tow, but without Jethro. The vet had decided to keep him overnight for observation. He'd had some internal bleeding and a broken rib.

Tim was starting to feel drowsy again, but there was something that made him _not_ want to go to sleep again. ...and it had everything to do with whatever had happened to Jethro.

"McGee?"

Tim looked toward the bathroom and felt his heart start pounding.

"McGee? You all right?"

What if he had done something to Jethro in his sleep?

"Hey! McGee!"

Tim kept his gaze on the bathroom.

"Do you know what scared me when I was little, Tony?"

"Your reflection."

"Exactly. His name was Mit. I went to a shrink for more than a year in order to be convinced that he didn't exist."

"A shrink?"

Tim wasn't really listening to Tony. He was just staring at the bathroom.

"Did you ever do that Bloody Mary thing in the bathroom when you were a kid? You know...you turn off the lights, say her name three times and she comes? Just the concept of that...it gave me nightmares for weeks. When I told Mit he had to leave...he was...mad. After that...my parents found me in the middle of the street. Mit was taking me away."

"What are you talking about, McGee?"

"I don't remember any of what happened. I was asleep. What if I'm the one who hurt Jethro? What if I did that to him? Do you realize how hard I would have had to kick him in order to do that much damage?"

Tim felt Tony grab him and turn him around.

"Hey, Tim! What's going on?"

Tim looked at him...and he just felt exhausted. He actually swayed a little bit.

"Man...I'm so tired."

Tony smiled and directed him to his bed. He pushed him down.

"Go to sleep, McGee. Everything can wait until...well, a few hours more. Sleep off your pills and don't worry. It'll be all right."

Tim had a horrible feeling that Tony couldn't be more wrong, but he was so tired that he just lay down let his eyes close. He didn't even hear if Tony said anything else.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Tim woke up and looked around. His apartment wasn't empty. He was sure of it. Quietly, he got out of bed and snuck toward the front room. He opened the door and then stumbled backward with shout.

"Hey, McGee. What's with _you_?"

Tim tried to calm his heart down which was threatening to beat its way out of his chest.

"Tony...what are you doing here?"

"Seemed a waste to drive back to my place. So I slept on the floor. You all right?"

"You just startled me. I thought I was alone."

Tony gave him a look that said he'd heard more than just what Tim had said...but he didn't say anything about it.

"Well, I'll be heading out now. No way am I going to show up at work looking like this. See you there, Probie."

"Tony..."

Tony just waved back over his shoulder. "Hope that your dog feels better. See you at work, McGee."

Tim watched as Tony left. Part of him wanted to beg Tony to stay so that he wouldn't be alone in this place...where he still didn't feel like he was the only person there.

The door closed and Tim swallowed hard. Without looking, he hurried to the kitchen, grabbed two towels and draped them over his computer monitors. Then, he closed the curtains over the windows by his writing desk and in his bedroom. He draped another towel over his television. Finally, he walked into the bathroom. He crouched down low enough that he wouldn't see himself in the mirror. He was embarrassed by what he was doing, but he was also afraid.

"Look in the mirror, you idiot. It's just your reflection. Remember? It's not a person. It's nothing. That was all it was when you were little. That's all it is now."

Tim stood up and forced himself to turn around.

He looked into the mirror at his reflection...

...and suddenly, his reflection smiled.

"_Hi, Tim. Did you miss me?"_

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

The elevator door dinged.

Tony looked over and saw Tim get off. He was pale and jittery...different from earlier...and he was almost an hour late, but Tony had told Gibbs about Tim's nighttime adventure and smoothed the way a little bit.

"Hey, Probie. Jethro still hurt?"

Tim walked to his desk and sat down without answering. He glanced at his computer and then turned away from it.

"McGee?"

"I'm fine," Tim said softly. "I'm okay."

"What's up?"

"Um...nothing. Just out of sorts."

"Like a few hours ago?"

"I'm very awake, now, Tony," Tim said...not really answering the question.

"McGee..."

"Ask him later. We've got a dead body," Gibbs said. "Near Dupont Circle. Grab your gear."

Tim lagged behind the others, but he got up and followed.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Stuffed behind a dumpster, Petty Officer Gray was a grisly sight. His throat had been cut...very deeply. Gibbs looked around the alley and then noticed the video camera positioned above the door to the nearby restaurant.

"Tony, photos. Ziva, McGee, go and see what you can find out from in there." He pointed.

Everyone nodded and scattered, but after Tony's warning that morning, Gibbs gave Tim a closer glance. He didn't look very good. Not sick, really. Disturbed was more like it. He actually seemed relieved that Ziva was going with him. Still, he headed off without much hesitation.

Shaking his head, he headed over to talk to the employee who had found the body.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"Here's the video from last night, Agent McGee."

"Thanks." Tim sat down and then noticed that Ziva was about to leave. "Hey, Ziva...why don't you stay?"

"Why? We need to get statements from those who were working here last night."

"Just in case...I miss something," Tim said.

Ziva laughed. "You will not miss anything on a screen, McGee. You are very observant...at least where computers are concerned."

Tim smiled weakly as she left him alone in the room. He didn't want to turn back to the monitor. He didn't want to see his reflection in the screen.

He took a deep breath and turned to the video.

What he saw was much more surprising than his reflection.

He saw himself.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"Gibbs?"

Gibbs turned from his contemplation of the alley toward Ziva.

"Yeah?"

"I think...there is something you need to see."

"Inside the restaurant?"

"On the video."

Gibbs looked at her and then at Ducky and Jimmy who were evaluating the body with Tony's assistance.

"DiNozzo!" he called and then jerked his head when Tony looked up.

Ziva led the way to the small back room. Tim was sitting at the desk looking, if possible, even worse than when he'd come in to work that morning.

"What's up?"

Tim said nothing...so emphatically that Gibbs knew something was wrong. Tim just cued up the tape.

A dark figure came into the view of the camera. His face was shadowed and hidden. One of the lights in the alley was out and that gave him the advantage of darkness. He crouched behind the dumpster. Then, suddenly jumped up and ran out of the shot. Petty Officer Gray walked through, looking up at the light and squinting, his face briefly illuminated before falling back into shadow. He was stumbling a little bit. He stumbled out of view of the camera...but the video wasn't done with its revelations.

A few moments later, another person walked into the alley...only he was apparently in a hurry. He came into view and stopped under the light, apparently staring off camera. He was fully in view. He stood where he was for a full minute before running out of the shot. There was a flurry of movement just out of sight of the camera. Shadows on the walls testified to _something_ going on. ...and then, the man backed into the shot again, dark stains on his hands. He stared off camera for a few more seconds before turning and running back out of the alley.

"McGee...what were you doing in that alley?" Gibbs asked.

Tim reached out with shaking fingers and stopped the video. He didn't say a word.

"McGee! That wasn't a rhetorical question!"

"I...wasn't...there..." Tim whispered. "That couldn't be me."

"It was _clearly_ you, McGee," Ziva said. "What were you doing?"

Tim surged to his feet and stared at them. It was clear that he wanted to run out of the enclosed space, but he mastered the impulse.

"I didn't do anything! I...I was..."

"You weren't at home, McGee," Tony said quietly. "Look at the time stamp."

Tim's eyes barely flicked to the screen. He didn't need to look. He apparently already knew it. Gibbs could see his building fear.

"Where was he, then?" Ziva asked.

"I don't know where I was," Tim whispered. "I...I woke up in..."

"...in a fountain in Meridian Hill Park," Tony finished. "He called me at three a.m. to come and pick him up."

"This...has to be...some kind of...of mistake," Tim said. "It can't..." His eyes were almost wild.

"Calm down, McGee," Gibbs said, finally taking some pity on him. He modulated his tone from accusing to simply questioning. "Tony told me that you'd been sleepwalking."

"Sleepwalking? To a place five miles from your home?" Ziva asked.

"I think...it's the pills I've been taking to help me sleep. It's happened before, once or twice. ...and before you ask, yes, I've had insomnia before," Tim said, calming down slightly in the face of Gibbs' shift. "I didn't just...sleepwalk. I bought a Metro ticket and apparently used it. I don't remember any of that. I don't have any memory from when I went to bed and went to sleep to when I woke up in the fountain."

"You didn't see any blood on him?" Gibbs asked Tony.

"None. I think I would have noticed."

"What if..." Tim didn't finish...but everyone knew what he was thinking.

"You sure you don't remember anything?" Gibbs asked.

"I don't remember! I..." Tim's eyes suddenly went back to the monitor and Gibbs saw a flash of pure terror...then, Tim swallowed and looked back at him.

"Hey, Tim, you're not under arrest. All we have here is that you were there. So was some other guy and he looked a lot more threatening. Petty Officer Gray was there and apparently bordering on drunk. Someone was waiting for him."

Tim nodded nervously. There was more going on than this. Gibbs could see it. Tim was terrified, but of what...Gibbs didn't know.

"McGee, you and Tony head back to NCIS. Ziva and I'll finish up here. Take the video to Abby. See what she can do with it. McGee, you keep your hands off it. We don't want anything to mess up our investigation and if you were there..."

Tim nodded.

"Once Ducky gets back and gets things squared away, you talk to him about what happened."

"I could talk to my doctor. He prescribed the pills," Tim whispered.

"For now, just Ducky. Then, depending what he says...then, your doctor."

"Okay."

Tony actually grabbed Tim by the arm and directed him out of the little office.

"What happened?" Gibbs asked.

"I came in to see if he had made any progress and he was just staring at the video. Gibbs, he was frightened of what he saw there. This is not normal behavior for him. This is strange."

Gibbs nodded in agreement. He made a mental note to talk to Tim himself before the end of the day. He needed to get to the bottom of whatever was going on.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"McGee, I'll run the video down to Abby."

"Okay."

"You can just have a seat."

"Okay."

"Start pulling up the photos from the scene. Maybe that will jog your memory."

"Okay."

"Tim?"

"Okay."

Tony laughed a bit. "Tim!"

Tim jumped and looked at him. "I don't know what's going on, Tony. I don't!"

"It's okay. It really is. We'll figure this stuff out, McGee."

Tim's eyes flicked to the computer, to the windows and then back to Tony.

"I don't feel so good," he said and pushed past Tony toward the men's room.

Tony debated following, but he decided that Tim deserved the chance to collect himself. He'd had a couple of nasty shocks in a fairly short span of time. No wonder he was out of sorts. It would be better if he could just take a moment by himself to regain his equilibrium. He'd take the video and other evidence down to Abby and then come up and check on Tim.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim crashed into the men's room and hurried to the toilet...but the urge to throw up passed...and then, he realized he was alone in the room, that he would have to walk by the mirrors in order to get out.

He wouldn't be there. It was his imagination. That thing this morning...it wasn't real. He wouldn't be here...at NCIS. He wouldn't...

"_Tii-im...I know you're there. Turn off the lights and come play!"_

Tim closed his eyes and took a shaking breath.

_No. No, it's not real. You're just going crazy. It's not real._

"_Tim! Come out and play!"_

Tim clenched his hands into tight fists...so tight that he started shaking. He wasn't a kid anymore. He wasn't scared of monsters...even when they were in the mirror.

"I'm not scared!" he said aloud.

"_Then, come and play with me!"_

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"Tim's sleepwalking? Sleep-buying-Metro-tickets? Sleep-swimming-in-a-fountain? Weird!" Abby said. "And he was at the crime scene, too?"

"Yeah. Gibbs wants you to see if you can get any details on the other guy we saw."

"So...why did Tim call _you_? Why not me?"

Tony smiled. "Probably he didn't want to interrupt your sleep. He obviously doesn't care about mine."

Abby laughed and then bit her lip for a moment. "Gibbs isn't thinking that _Tim_ had anything to do with it, is he?"

"No. He thinks McGee was just there, but we need to figure out who the other guy in the alley was."

"I'm on it! ...and where is the sleepwalker?"

"Bathroom. Feeling a bit weirded out himself."

"Yeah, I don't blame him. Well, tell him to come down here and I'll give him a hug."

Tony laughed. "Will do."

He left the lab and headed up to the bullpen. Tim wasn't at his desk. Still in the bathroom? He switched course and walked toward the men's room...and noticed that there didn't seem to be a light on inside. Weird.

He started to open the door when he heard a loud crash, the sound of breaking glass...and a terrified scream.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Tony burst into the men's room and saw that there was no light on...but for a moment, he could have sworn that there _was_ light in the room. He didn't take the time to worry about that, though. He turned on the light and looked at what little remained of the mirror. It was broken, the shards of glass scattered across the sinks. The garbage can was on the floor.

...and Tim was hiding in a corner, eyes closed, hands tucked under his arms, rocking and banging his head against the wall.

"I don't wanna play. I don't wanna play. I don't wanna play."

"Tim! Snap out of it!" Tony said and grabbed Tim by the arms and shook him until he stopped talking.

His eyes opened and fell on Tony.

"I don't want to play, Tony."

"Play _what_, McGee? What happened?"

"The...The lights...went out."

"Did _you_ turn them off?"

"I don't...think so."

"You don't remember?"

Tim's eyes moved to the mirror.

"Did I do that?" he asked.

"I don't know, McGee. I wasn't in here."

Tim looked at Tony and then at the remains of the mirror again.

"What's wrong with me?" he whispered.

"I don't know, but you're going to talk to Ducky. Not when he's ready. Now. The dead guy can wait."

"Maybe it's just..."

Tony cut Tim off. "I don't care what it's _just_. What if you black out again somewhere else? Like in your car? You're coming down to Autopsy."

Tony tried to pull him to his feet, but Tim resisted.

"No. I don't...want to go down there."

"Fine. A conference room, then. You're not delaying this, McGee."

Tim nodded and let Tony help him up. ...but then, he noticed blood on Tim's hand.

"What happened, there, McGee?"

Tim looked at the blood and then opened his clenched fist. There was a shallow cut across the center of his palm.

"I...guess I cut it."

Tony was now wondering if Tim had gone utterly insane. He grabbed some paper towels and pressed them over the cut. Tim clenched his fist again and they left the men's room.

Tony got Tim safely ensconced in one of the conference rooms and then headed down to Autopsy. Ducky and Jimmy were just setting up.

"Anthony, this is _really_ jumping the gun, you know. It's hardly–"

"I need you to come up and talk to Tim."

"What for?"

"To find out why he can't remember being at the crime scene while the murder was taking place and why he just had a complete meltdown in the men's room...complete with apparently shattering the mirror."

"What?" Ducky asked, giving Tony his full attention. "What did you say?"

"I found McGee in the men's room in the corner. The lights were off. The mirror was shattered...and McGee was sitting in the corner saying that he didn't want to play, over and over again. He doesn't remember what happened."

"Jethro mentioned that Timothy seemed to be having a reaction to the sleeping pills he'd been taking, but this...this is not normal behavior."

"Yeah, I figured that out, Ducky. That's why I want you to talk to him. Find out what's going on."

"Of course. Mr. Palmer, if you would begin preparing the body?"

"Of course, Dr. Mallard," Jimmy said, nodding quickly.

"Lead the way, Anthony."

Tony nodded with relief and headed back up to the conference room. At the door, he paused.

"I think it'd be best if you talk to him alone, Ducky," he said seriously.

"Why is that?"

"I think he's hiding something. Maybe he'll be more open with you."

"I wouldn't depend upon that, Anthony. It's a chancy thing when you're talking about out-of-character behavior."

"Yeah, well, I need to report to maintenance anyway."

Ducky chuckled. "Go on, then. I won't keep you."

Tony left, hoping that there would be some answer that Ducky could find...something other than Tim going crazy.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Ducky opened the door to the conference room and was surprised at Tim's apperance. He was sitting at the table, tension in every line. His stance was of one frightened. Had he been this way earlier that day? Ducky would have said no, but now he couldn't swear to it. This wasn't just fear, either. It was abject terror.

"Timothy?"

Tim's head turned fractionally toward him but no more.

"I cut my hand," he said softly.

"How?"

"I don't know. I don't remember doing it," he said and held up his hand, palm open.

Ducky took hold of Tim's wrist and examined his hand.

"It doesn't look too serious. I can patch that up in a jiffy."

Tim nodded and remained docile throughout Ducky's ministrations. It took very little time. Tim kept silent until Ducky finished.

"I might be going crazy, Ducky," he said.

Ducky shifted around to face Tim directly...not that it mattered. Tim was staring at the table.

"Anthony told me of the situation in the restroom."

"Did he tell you that I'm nuts?"

"No."

"I was at the crime scene while he was being killed but I don't remember being there ...or going there...or leaving. I was in the men's room...and..."

"Yes? And what, Timothy?"

"And I cut my hand."

"And broke the mirror?"

"I don't remember doing that," Tim said softly. He began picking at the tabletop with one finger.

"Do you remember that you did _not_ do it?"

Tim wouldn't meet Ducky's gaze, no matter how Ducky tried to encourage him to do so.

"I don't remember doing it."

"Timothy, you've been taking prescription sleeping pills?"

"Yes. Zolpidem. My doctor prescribed them."

"You're aware that zolpidem has been known to cause cases of somnambulism...as well as other activities undertaken while sleeping?"

"It has before, I think."

"You've taken this drug before?"

"Yeah. A couple times."

"Anything like this ever happen before?"

"No."

Ducky looked at Tim carefully. While he was speaking, there was something more going on that he wasn't revealing.

"What are you afraid of, Timothy?"

"That I did something I don't remember."

That was both truth and lie, Ducky could see. Tim _was_ afraid of that, but it wasn't what terrified him. There was a lot more to the story that Tim wasn't willing to share.

"Timothy, you can trust me."

A faint smile.

"Maybe...but there's nothing more to tell, Ducky. I'm just worried about what's going on. I've never..."

"...broken a mirror?"

"I don't remember doing it."

There was something significant about that repeated statement, Ducky decided, but he didn't know what it was.

"Well, in any case, I would recommend that you speak to your doctor about this, and stop taking the sleeping pills until they can be ruled out as the cause of your wandering."

Tim nodded...at the table.

"It's all right, Timothy. No one thinks you killed Petty Officer Gray. There is another likely culprit from what I understand."

Tim nodded again.

"Perhaps you should stay here."

Tim shook his head.

"No. I should get to work. I shouldn't... Tony told me to...to check the photos..."

"Timothy, given your possible involvement, it is much more likely that you'll need to keep away from any direct investigation. I'm certain that Jethro will wish to speak with you when he arrives. Why don't you stay here and collect your thoughts."

Tim slumped back in the chair and nodded.

"All will be well, Timothy. If it's simply a reaction to the pills you've been taking, then eliminating them will fix things."

"...and what if it's not that?"

Ducky smiled and squeezed Tim's shoulder.

"Then, we'll figure it out, lad."

Tim said nothing.

"I must get back down to Autopsy."

"I'll be fine here."

Somehow, once Tim said it, Ducky was very uncertain about whether or not that was actually true. That put something in his mind.

Ducky left Tim sitting in the conference room and headed back down to the bullpen. He noticed that the men's room was out of order. Maintenance definitely wouldn't be happy about the mess to clean up in there, but Ducky was curious to see just what had been done...by Tim? As he had claimed, he didn't remember.

"Pardon me," Ducky said at the door. "Might I get a look at the damage?"

One of the maintenance workers just grunted. "Yeah, sure. We're just getting started on the glass. Whoever it was sure seemed to hate the mirror...and of course, _we_ have to clean it up."

Ducky smiled and stepped into the men's room. He was quite surprised by what he saw, although he didn't show it. The entire mirror had been shattered. The offending weapon _appeared_ to be the garbage can on the floor. But breaking this mirror with the garbage can would require a large degree of force, likely multiple hits. The can was large but plastic, not metal. Intent, desire..perhaps fury would be necessary to take down this mirror. Although not an investigator, Ducky bent over the discarded garbage can.

"May I take this?" he asked.

"What for?"

"God...or perhaps the devil is in the details," he said with a hapless smile, knowing that they'd let him and write it off as the inherent goofiness of one Dr. Mallard.

"Yeah, sure. Whatever."

"Thank you, kindly." Ducky picked it up very carefully and carried it out of the restroom. Not seeing Tony anywhere around, he took the elevator down to Abby's lab.

"What do you need, Ducky?" Abby asked, seemingly focused on her work. "I thought you were doing an autopsy."

"I'm on my way to that, but I was wondering if you would indulge me for a moment."

Abby turned from her computer and grinned at him.

"I'm assuming that this has something to do with the garbage can you're carrying?"

"Indeed, it does."

"Lay it on me. I can't promise to get to it right away. I've got to have something to show Gibbs when he shows up."

Ducky smiled back at her. "That's fine. This may be nothing at all."

"What do you want?"

"I was wondering if you could run the usual scans on it. Check for fingerprints or any other sundry things you generally check for...and tell me if you find anything embedded in it."

"Such as?"

"Pieces of a mirror, actually."

"A mirror? Why?" Abby asked.

"As I said, I'm hoping you'll indulge me."

Abby shrugged. "Okay. This isn't for the murder case, is it?"

"Not at all."

"Okay. Set it over there and I'll get to it when I finish working miracles on this video. Did you know that Tim was there?"

"Yes, I was aware."

Abby shook her head. "He didn't do anything, of course, but it's so weird that he was apparently sleepwalking and ended up at our crime scene."

"Very strange, indeed. He says he's been taking zolpidem."

"Right. His insomnia issues. I've heard of the sleepwalking thing. It's just so bizarre. I'm waiting for Tim to come down here so I can hug him...and ask him about it."

"I rather doubt that he wishes to be interrogated about his nighttime journey."

"I wouldn't _interrogate_ him! ...but it's so cool! ...and hinky!"

"Regardless, this is something that appears to be causing him a lot of distress."

"All right, all right," Abby said with a grin. "I won't bug him, but I _would _like to give him a hug!"

"He may appreciate that. He's up in one of the conference rooms if you would like to visit him."

"Why is he there?"

"Because of his presence on that video. It's better to clear him completely before letting him be directly involved."

"Right. Okay." Abby turned back to her computer...and continued talking. "You know...Tim told me once that he'd had problems sleeping before. I asked him why. He told me it was just stress...but when I asked where the stress was coming from, he said it was just one of those things. I think he didn't really want to answer me." She smiled. "It was one of the few times I didn't win the argument. He refused to tell me what was going through his head."

"Interesting. Well, I'll leave you to your investigation and continue my own." _Both of them,_ Ducky added to himself, making a mental note to talk to Gibbs about what had happened.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

"_Tim! Tim! Come and play with me! I don't _like_ playing by myself!"_

Tim covered his ears, but he wasn't sure whether or not he was really hearing the words out loud. If he wasn't, this wouldn't help...but if he was...

"_Tim! Let's have some more fun like in the bathroom!"_

He shook his head.

"No."

Silence.

"_No? You're going to leave me alone again? I don't like that, Tim. You know I don't like that. Remember what happens when you leave me alone? People can get hurt when you leave me alone..."_

Tim hunched his shoulders and drew in a shaking breath. The windows. They were all potential sources of his reflection. A whole wall of them. A blank TV. He had to get out of this room...but where could he go?

_Don't worry about _where_. Just go. You can't sit where he'll get to you...whether he's real or not._

Tim got to his feet and walked toward the door, carefully avoiding looking at the TV.

"_Where are you going, Tim?"_

Quickly, Tim yanked open the door and then fell backwards a step or two with a surprised gasp.

"Boss!"

Gibbs looked at him, clearly scrutinizing every bit of him.

"Where you going, McGee?"

"Uh...nowhere, really."

"Good. Sit." He gestured back at the table.

"Okay." Tim sat down. He figured that Tony and Ducky would both have talked to him already. There wasn't really any point in trying to avoid this conversation.

"You mind telling me what's going on?"

"Yes...I do mind."

Gibbs blinked at him, almost in surprise...and Tim felt he had to make up for his...flippancy.

"You're...asking me a question I can't answer."

"What happened in the men's room, McGee?"

"I don't remember breaking the mirror," Tim said. "I'll pay for it."

"That's not what I'm talking about, McGee!" Gibbs snapped. "Tony said he found you in the corner with the lights off, saying you didn't want to play. Who were you talking to?"

Tim thought about how he could possibly answer that question...without outright lying. He couldn't tell Gibbs what he thought he was seeing, but he couldn't say that _nothing_ had happened. Something very clearly had.

"No one was in there...I guess...I was talking to my reflection."

Gibbs' eyes narrowed. Tim was sure he realized that there was more going on.

"You're off field duty until you get this in hand, McGee. Talk to your doctor, whatever. Until you do, you're a risk."

Tim swallowed and nodded. His eyes flitted involuntarily to his reflection in the blank TV screen. He felt ill again. He could see Mit using the presence of Gibbs' reflection to...have some fun.

"McGee!"

Tim looked at Gibbs again.

"Yes, Boss?"

Gibbs turned around.

"What are you looking at?"

"The...the TV. I got distracted. Sorry."

Gibbs turned back to him.

"Tim, what aren't you telling me?"

_The things you'd never believe,_ Tim said silently but said nothing aloud.

"You can't be involved in the case until we prove it wasn't you," Gibbs said finally, actually looking a bit disappointed.

"I figured," Tim said, trying to sound merely understanding. "What do you want me to do?"

"Go back to your doctor and figure _this_ out. Clear?"

"Yes, Boss."

"Good. Call him and do what it takes to get to him fast."

"Yes, Boss."

Gibbs got up to go and Tim leapt to his feet as well.

"Do I have to stay in here, Boss?" Tim asked, hoping he didn't sound too afraid.

Gibbs gave him another look.

"No."

Tim was hot on Gibbs' heels as they left. When he looked down and saw the bullpen bustling with activity, he couldn't suppress a sigh of relief. ...and that was Gibbs' cue to turn around.

"What are you afraid of, McGee?"

"Uh...I..."

"Don't tell me it's nothing. I can see it's not."

"I just...it's stupid but...after everything that's happened, I don't really...want to be alone." There. _That_ was totally true, even if he'd glossed over just _what_ had happened.

"Okay. ...but you start thinking about what you're going to say, McGee...because I can tell you're still not telling me everything. ...and that's not going to stand."

Tim nodded and hurried down to his desk. He quickly woke up his computer and changed his monitor background to something bright and busy, making a reflection difficult to see. Then, he got on the phone and nearly begged for an appointment that day. He lucked out and was able to get one for later in the afternoon.

"Hey, McGee, you feeling better?"

Tim looked up and saw Tony looking at him with some worry. He forced a smile.

"A bit, yeah. I'm going to talk to my doctor today. Maybe that will solve everything," he said. _...and maybe pigs will fly._

"Right. What's going on?"

"Well, I had a bout of insomnia, followed by sleepwalking to a crime scene, followed by a meltdown in the men's room. That's pretty much it."

"No, McGee. That's not saying _why_."

"If I knew that..."

"Yeah, yeah, you could stop it from happening. Don't you trust us, McGee?"

"Of course. You think I would have called you for help if I didn't trust you at all?"

"You know what's going on...or at least you _think_ you do. What did you see in the bathroom?"

Tim sighed. "Just my reflection, Tony. That's all I ever saw."

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"Ducky?"

"Like I told you before, Jethro, Timothy was not forthcoming about whatever troubled him."

"What do you _think_?"

That Timothy is terrified about something. I'm not sure what it is, but he is definitely terrified...and unwilling to tell us why."

"Why would that be?"

"Embarrassment? Fear? I don't know. It could be something so simple as he assumes we will tease him about his fear. Or it could be that he thinks we won't believe whatever it is that frightens him. ...or he could even be under duress. Honestly, I'm not sure at this point. There are too many possibilities."

"What will it take for him to tell someone?"

Ducky sighed. "I don't know that, either. You could try forcing him. It often works for you."

Gibbs shook his head. "I don't know this time, Ducky. He was afraid of even being alone. He said he didn't want to be alone, but he was scared...scared to be by himself."

"Where is Timothy now?"

"Seeing his doctor."

"Well, I think we should wait to see what happens there...but if he doesn't offer any information about his appointment, you should be sure to ask him tomorrow. Make him aware that you're paying attention to his situation."

"I think he'd rather I didn't," Gibbs said with a smile.

Ducky shook his head. "I don't agree. If he is truly afraid, he'll privately welcome the attention...if only because it would assure him that he _isn't_ alone in whatever this trial happens to be."

Gibbs said nothing in response...but he nodded.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Abby made her breakthrough on the video just before Tony and Ziva were going to be set free for the day. They were none too happy about having to stay longer, but the prospect of definitely clearing Tim from any direct involvement in the murder was worth a bit of inconvenience.

"Okay, first of all, I want you to tell me how great I am," Abby said with a grin. "Go on. Tell me."

Gibbs came in. "Not until you show me, Abbs."

"Haven't I shown you enough, Gibbs? I'm _always_ great."

Gibbs smiled. "Prove it."

Abby grinned in response and turned back to her computer.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

It started to snow that evening. Tim got back from his doctor's appointment feeling no better. ...mostly because he'd be going back into his apartment. Gibbs had told him there was little point in coming back in. Everyone would be gone by the time he got there...so he went home.

Alone.

All the reflective surfaces were covered up, but Tim was afraid that it was going to get to the point it had when he was young. ...or the point he remembered it had. They had spent so much time trying to convince him that it was all in his head. Now that it was happening again, he was afraid that it _was_ in his head, that he was crazy. ...but he was _also_ afraid that it _wasn't_ in his head, that it was real.

...and Mit had done some things when he was young that had terrified him. Mit had made _him_ do things that had scared him.

Already, he could hear Mit without seeing his reflection.

When he got inside, he turned on all the lights and his television. Couldn't see a reflection if there were other images on it.

He wanted to be back at work...at least he wasn't alone there.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"Okay, so...I got some magic from the machines as usual, Gibbs," Abby said. "All I had to do was lighten up his face. Now, of course, it wasn't as easy as it sounds, but I'm amazing so..."

"Abby, who is it?" Gibbs asked.

Abby pressed a few buttons and brought up her cleared up video.

"Here he is!" she said. "All you have to do is..."

"Wait," Ziva interrupted. "I recognize this man."

"You do?" Tony asked. "You often make friends with suspected murderers?"

"Ha, ha," Ziva said with heavy sarcasm. "I am well-acquainted with _many_ killers, Tony. I would be happy to introduce you..."

"Who is it?" Gibbs asked, glaring at them.

"He works at the restaurant. He is one of the waiters."

"No wonder he had his face hidden. He knew the camera was there."

"Did he say anything to McGee?" Gibbs asked.

"No, I spoke to him while McGee was watching the video."

"Okay. Tony, check out what's in his records. Ziva and I will go pick him up."

"Should we ask McGee to come back in?" Tony asked. "Maybe he'll remember something."

Gibbs considered and then shook his head.

"See what you find first."

Tony nodded.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

The wind picked up. Tim could hear it over the TV. He was sitting with his phone in his hand, trying to get up the courage to call his parents and tell them that Mit was back. They'd think he was crazy.

"Maybe I am," he whispered. "...but if I am, I need help."

He dialed...and got his parents' machine. After the beep, he started to leave a message.

"Mom...Dad...I don't know how to put this so I'll just say it. Mit's back. I'm either going crazy or..."

The lights suddenly flickered...and then, went out.

"...oh, no..."

He heard the low menacing laughter...and then the sing-song voice.

"_Tim, come and play!"_

He started to breathe heavily.

"If this isn't real...then, I should be locked up...because I'm terrified," Tim whispered into the phone. "...I need help..."

"_Hang up the phone, Tim. I can hear you!"_

Tim felt his hand moving to turn off the phone. He fought it, but just like in the men's room...he was losing control of himself. Only little things right now...like the lights...like his phone...but that was bad enough. It would get worse.

"_Tim! Tim!"_

"Go away," he said through gritted teeth. "Go away!"

But, no, he walked to the windows and uncovered the glass.

Mit smiled at him in the darkness.

He walked into his bedroom and did the same, uncovering Mit.

"_Tim...come into the bathroom! I want to show you something!"_

As Tim's legs carried him where he didn't want to go, he closed his eyes.

"Stop it! Stop it!"

The laughter mocked his fear. Into the bathroom he went, past the tub...toward the mirror.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Charles Granden sat nervously in Interrogation. Alone. Ziva, Tony and Gibbs stared at him through the glass.

"He was all packed and ready to go," Ziva said with a grim smile. "Looked like he had noticed McGee, even if McGee did not notice him."

"Well, I checked with Metro, and there have been ten muggings in that alley in the last year. Guess when our friend Granden started working at the restaurant."

"A year ago?"

"Thirteen months."

"What a coincidence," Ziva said.

"No deaths?" Gibbs asked.

"Nope. One guy got beat up pretty bad but that's it."

"What changed it?" Ziva asked.

"He picked a guy in the military?" Tony suggested. "He'd fight back...and drunk, he wouldn't hold back."

"...and McGee was there. He got involved," Gibbs said.

"How involved do you think he got? What did he see?" Ziva asked.

"Maybe it's time to get him back in here," Tony said.

"Yeah. Call him. I'll start on Granden."

Gibbs headed for Interrogation, and Tony dialed Tim's number.

There was no answer.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Tim was vaguely aware of the ringing phone, but he was so horrified at what he could see that he couldn't move.

Faintly, in front of the mirror, Mit was taking shape. He was very well-defined in the mirror, right down to the menacing smile, but he was also taking shape _outside_ the mirror. He didn't remember that this had ever happened before.

"_Aren't you happy, Tim? Soon...we'll _really _be together."_

Tim backed away...but the bathroom wasn't very large and he soon ran into a wall. Mit's expression hardened.

"_Why are you trying to leave, Tim? I don't want you to leave."_

"Leave me alone."

"_You wished for me, Tim. Remember? You wanted a friend. I was there. You can't say you don't want me around now. You can't take it back."_

"I did..." Tim whispered. "...years ago. I told you to leave...and you did."

Mit's eyes glowed red for a moment...and then, he smiled again.

"_I'm back."_

"No! No!"

Somehow, Tim broke the hold Mit had on him and ran out of the bathroom...out of his apartment...out into the storm.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Gibbs sat down across from their suspect. He opened the file and made a show of looking at the information in it.

"So...Charles Granden...you're in a bit of trouble."

"I didn't do anything!" Granden said, very earnestly. Clearly, he was sure that no one could have seen his face. "I was going on a trip."

"A one-way trip, looks to me," Gibbs said and smiled. "You didn't give your two-weeks' notice."

"I wasn't worried about that."

"Obviously. So...how long did it take you to realize that Agent McGee saw you?"

"Saw me where?" Now, he seemed more confident, although Gibbs wasn't sure why.

"Oh, I don't know. In the alley where you killed Petty Officer Gray?"

"Oh, really? I don't remember being there. Does _he_ remember me being there?"

Ah. Now, it was clear. Either Granden had heard them talk about Tim being asleep or else he had noticed when he saw Tim in the alley that he wasn't reacting right. He didn't know about the image on the camera. How long to drag this out...

Tony opened the door and casually walked in. He sat down and smiled at Granden and then put a piece of paper in front of Gibbs. Gibbs glanced down at it.

_McGee isn't answering his phone. Ziva's going to see if he's home. Bit worried..._

Okay, no dragging this out. They had him and that's all that mattered.

"So you're claiming you weren't in the alley?"

"I wasn't there," Granden said confidently.

Gibbs slid the picture of Granden in the alley across the table.

"So...this isn't you?"

Granden picked up the picture and looked at it.

"No...that's impossible...I was..."

"That looks a lot like you, Granden," Gibbs said.

Granden stared at the image.

"So...you want to modify your statement?" Gibbs asked.

"Or, in other words, do you wanna change your cock-and-bull story?" Tony added with a grin.

"I didn't mean to!" Granden exclaimed. "It was an accident!"

"An accident?" Gibbs repeated. He looked at Tony. "An accident."

"So you just _accidentally_ cut Petty Officer Gray's throat?" Tony asked.

"The knife...it's only a...a deterrent! I never used it before!"

Then, Granden realized what he'd just said and closed his mouth.

"We know you're the one who was involved all those muggings over the last year. Don't even bother," Gibbs said.

"If that other agent hadn't...hadn't shown up there. He's crazy!" Granden said. "He just stared at me...and the guy started attacking me, asking for the agent to call for help. Instead, he ran at us, knocked us over and then he ran away. He never said a word...and I could have sworn that his eyes were closed part of the time. It would have been just like normal if he hadn't been there!"

"So it's my agent's fault that you committed murder?"

"It was an accident! I wasn't trying to kill him! I was just trying to take his wallet!"

Gibbs rolled his eyes and stood up. He walked out of Interrogation with Granden still declaring that it wasn't his fault behind them.

"What's going on?" Gibbs asked, as soon as the door was closed.

"I called McGee at least five times. No answer on his phone. Ziva's gone over to check on him, but...I'm worried about him, Boss. He's been off for the last few days. This case...it's only the most obvious thing."

Gibbs' phone rang...and then a couple of seconds later, Tony's phone rang.

"Ziva," Tony said, looking at the display.

Gibbs looked at his display. "Janene and Michael McGee..."

Tony raised his eyebrows and answered. "Ziva?"

"Hello, this is Agent Gibbs."

"_Agent Gibbs, this is Janene McGee. My son...Tim. He works for you."_

"Yes. What is it?"

"_I don't...think that I could explain everything to you in a reasonable amount of time, but I think you need to check on our son."_

"Why?"

"_He left us a message...and I think...something has happened to him...something that hasn't happened since he was a child...and something we hoped would never happen again..."_

"What is it?"

"_Could you please just check on him? I'm really worried."_

"Tony," Gibbs said, covering the receiver.

Tony shook his head. "Ziva said he's not there...and his car is...and his keys are...and his phone and his gun and his badge. The door was open. McGee isn't there."

"Mrs. McGee?"

"_Yes?"_

"We just sent someone over to your son's place, and he's not there. If you know something about what's going on, I need you to tell me. We're going to put out a BOLO for him..." He gestured to Tony who nodded. "...but you clearly know something we don't."

"_Okay...do you have an email address I could send the message to? That will be as good a place to start as any. We have a digital machine and Michael will send what Tim said to you."_

"All right." Gibbs gave her Abby's email address, wondering all the while just what he was going to find out that had frightened Tim's parents so much.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim ran out into the snow. He didn't care about the cold. He didn't care about the wind. He didn't care about the darkness. All he wanted was to get away from any reflective surface. Mit had grown so powerful that he could shout at Tim from the house windows as he ran.

More than once, Tim felt the pull as Mit tried to take control of him again...but he had the most power in Tim's home or when Tim was asleep and not able to fight him consciously.

Right now, he had to get far away. That meant outside. That meant away from any human dwelling.

The only place that was in his head was Rock Creek Park and he ran unerringly toward it as fast as he could, only barely noticing the growing cold as the wind and snow blasted against him. He didn't know if it was all real or just in his head, but either way, he had to get away from it. He couldn't let Mit get to him again.

"Get away...get away..." he whispered as he ran.

He ran across a street...and narrowly missed getting hit by a car. He stopped for a moment, staring into the headlights and then saw Mit reflected in the windshield and he started running again, ignoring the angry shouts of the people from the car, ignoring the sound of Mit's laughter at his near miss.

Finally, he reached the park. Not content with sitting by the edge, he ran along one of the paths until he reached a bench. It was covered with a thin dusting of snow now, but he didn't care. There was only snow and wind here. No mirrors, no windows, no smooth, shiny surfaces that would allow Mit to get at him again. He felt a little crazy right now. He was more terrified than he'd ever been...even as a child. Because now, he knew how bad things could get...and because Mit had gone a step farther than he'd gone before.

He was taking on life outside Tim's reflection...and he had no idea what that would mean. How many years had Mit been living the mirror world, waiting for a chance to get at Tim again?

He didn't know, but he did know one thing: He wasn't going to let Mit get at him again. Even if he had to sit out here all night. He would rather face the cold and wind and snow than he would seeing his reflection change into a monster.

Tim did wish that he'd managed to grab his coat before he left...but no way was he going back for it now. No way.

How long would he have to stay in the park, in the cold? How long would he have to wait until it was safe to go inside again?

He didn't know, but he wasn't going inside until he knew that Mit wouldn't be there.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"_...if this isn't real then, I should be locked up...because I'm terrified. ...I need help..."_

There was something muffled in the background, but that wasn't the important thing. The important thing was that Tim sounded scared out of his wits. Gibbs looked at Abby and Tony, both of whom were staring at him in surprise.

"Okay...what's going on in there?" Tony asked.

"I don't know. McGee's parents are waiting for us to call them back."

He dialed the number and put them on speaker phone.

"_Agent Gibbs?"_

"Yes. We've listened to it. What's going on? Who's Mit?"

Even though the McGees weren't in the room, they could all sense their reluctance to talk about it.

"Look, Mrs. McGee," Gibbs said sternly, "your son is missing. He sounded terrified. It's snowing out here. We need to know. Who is Mit?"

"_Agent Gibbs,"_ Michael said in the tone of someone braving out an unpleasant revelation. _"Mit...doesn't exist. He's someone Tim made up when he was a child...as a playmate and became a...a kind of hallucination. Tim was scared of him. He said that Mit made him do things, showed him terrible things."_

"He was an imaginary friend?" Tony asked in surprise.

"_Not exactly. Mit was his reflection. He lived in the mirrors...and windows...and any place that Tim could see his reflection. He said that Mit only came out when he was alone or when no one was looking. By the time he was about ten years old, he was so scared of Mit that he spent almost every day in the living room...where there weren't any mirrors. He read books, stayed away from his computer. When he told us about it, he was afraid that Mit would punish him."_

"What did you do?" Abby asked.

"_We took him to a psychiatrist. For months, he would go there every day. I gave up my active duty and took a desk job so that he'd have some stability. For a while, the only mirror in our house was in the bathroom. After about a year, he seemed to be a lot better. With the exception of some sleepwalking...that scared _us_ to death, he was fine."_

"Sleepwalking?"

"_Yeah. He left the house a couple of times. He was lucky he never got hit by a car."_

"He hasn't mentioned Mit since he was ten?"

"_Maybe eleven, but definitely not since then. We were all glad to have that chapter over with. Agent Gibbs...my son doesn't scare easily. He's always been tough. ...but to have him seeing this 'Mit' again. I honestly don't know what to do about it."_

Gibbs looked at Tony and Abby.

"We're going to find him first. We'll talk to him."

"_We're coming out there, Agent Gibbs,"_ Janene said. _"If our son needs help, then we're going to be there to help him."_

"Okay. When you get here, if you haven't heard from any of us, either call me or check in at headquarters."

"_All right...just find our son."_

"We will," Gibbs said and disconnected.

He looked at Tony and Abby.

"Abby, I want you to find anything you can to explain that message. Find out what Tim was seeing in there. Get Ducky to help you. Tony, call Ziva."

"Tell her to start looking?"

"Exactly...which is what _we're_ going to do. I don't care if McGee is crazy or if he's seeing something real. We're going to find him before anything happens."

"Yes, Boss."

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim felt cold. He began to shiver, but he didn't think it was safe to leave yet.

"Hey...sir? You okay?"

"I'm fine," Tim said, not looking up. Who knew but that Mit might be reflected in the eyes of this person...

"You look pretty cold."

"I'm fine. Thank you."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive. I'm happy just sitting here. You can go about your business."

"Okay."

"Thanks."

He heard the footsteps recede and let himself shiver violently. As he sat there, he finally felt some tears build up in his eyes and stream down his cheeks.

"How did he come back? Why? Why me?"

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

The phone rang and Tony looked at Gibbs as he answered.

"Agent DiNozzo. Where? Thanks."

"Well?" Gibbs asked.

"Got a hit on the BOLO. Guy said he saw a man sitting on a bench in Rock Creek Park. No coat. He said that he looked cold but didn't want any help. Answered McGee's description."

Gibbs said nothing. He turned sharply and headed for Rock Creek Park.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Gibbs and Tony pulled into a parking lot near the north edge of Rock Creek Park and saw a police car parked there and two Metro cops heading over to them. Gibbs looked at Tony.

"This must be the place, Boss," he said.

"Yep."

They got out of the car and Gibbs held up his badge.

"NCIS. Agents Gibbs and DiNozzo."

"Officers Morton and North. MPD. We think we found your guy. He's sitting on a bench just through there. Insists that he's fine, but really, he's _got_ to be cold. This isn't exactly summertime in DC. Seems a bit out of it...but it's not against the law to sit in the park...at least not as long as _he's_ been there...and he's not disturbing anyone."

"Thanks for calling us. We'll take care of him."

"Go ahead. What's wrong with him?"

"Not sure yet," Gibbs said and pointed off into the park. "This way?"

"Yeah."

They headed off along the trail and found Tim sitting alone, snow collecting on his shoulders, looking cold...and just not right. He was shivering slightly, but even though he must have heard them, he wouldn't look up.

"McGee?"

Tim's head moved toward the sound, but he didn't raise his head.

"Hey, B-Boss. Someone report on the lunatic sitting in the park?"

"Yeah, something like that. What's going on? Your parents called me."

"Told you about Mit, then?"

"Yeah."

"Then, you know what's going on."

"No, I don't. Why don't we go back to the car and talk about it?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because...whether I'm crazy or Mit's real...I'm not going anywhere that I can see my reflection. I won't risk it."

"What's the risk?"

"Mom apparently didn't tell you enough about what...what he did when I was young."

Tim was shaking now, but Gibbs couldn't tell how much was due to fear and how much to cold. He brushed the snow off Tim's shoulders, shucked his own coat and wrapped it around Tim. Tim almost looked at him...but not quite.

"Thanks."

"What didn't they tell me?"

"That Mit is...evil. There's n-n-no other word for it." Tim cleared his throat and continued to shiver.

Gibbs gave Tony a look and he nodded, drawing away from the bench, out of earshot, phone in hand.

"What did he do?"

Tim actually laughed a little. "How much of that question is you humoring the crazy guy, Boss?"

"Maybe some of it. Don't know how much yet. There's been a lot going on with you for the last couple of weeks."

"Yeah...I don't know why he started coming after me again...but he seemed pretty ticked off that I rejected him when I was little."

"What did he do?"

"He...could...make me do things, Boss. Bad things...and he said we were playing."

"And you didn't _want _to play?" Gibbs asked.

Tim laughed again. "Yeah. I didn't want to play. Do you want me to talk about him as if he were real or as if he were a figment of my imagination? I can do either pretty well...because I spent a long time listening to people tell me that he didn't exist, that he never had, that it was all in my head and I just had to say no. I believed them...and now, he's back."

"He's real to you, Tim. Talk about him that way."

"Okay. Don't have much to lose, I guess." Tim gave a shaking shrug. "If he's real, he's way more powerful than he was before. If he's just a product of my mind...then, my life is pretty much ruined anyway."

"Doesn't have to be."

"Yeah, it does. Because I'll be a lunatic who believes that the bad things he does are actually being done by someone who doesn't exist. I won't be trusted. I can't be. I barely trust myself."

"Just tell me about him."

"Mit broke the mirror in the men's room." Tim's eyes closed and he shook his head. "More pieces of the mirror...more images of him...more voices. He made me turn off the lights...and I did throw the...the garbage can, but the mirror was already broken...and Mit just laughed...and used it himself."

"How?"

"He can...sometimes...come out of the mirror. Not always, not all of him...at least he didn't _used_ to be able to do that, but he...he got his hand out of one of the bigger pieces and threw the can back at me...told me it was a game...and he made me throw it to him. I told him...that I didn't want to play." Another shaky laugh. "When I was little, he would mostly show me things...especially when I started wanting to avoid him. Whenever I caught my reflection, he would start...start _doing_ things to the reflections of other people or things in the mirror. He set the house on fire. He got a knife and...and...used it. Only in a reflection, but I was just a kid. He hurt Sarah once, not badly but...but he did. That's when I started staying in the living room...so that he couldn't hurt my sister anymore...but I still couldn't get away from him, not at school or on the bus. He doesn't show himself when people are paying attention...which is another sign of either I'm crazy or he's just...too good at what he does. But people don't pay attention and he loves that. Other reflections for him to use."

"And now?"

"Now...Now, he's...he got out of the mirror. All of him. He's never done that before, but he did...this time. He needs _me_ around to do it. He needs to have my image...and I'm not giving it to him. Real or not...I'm not giving it to him. I'm not letting that...that _thing_ out of the mirror. There's nothing good about him, Boss. Nothing. I like to think that I'm a pretty good guy. I'm not perfect, but I'm not a bad person, really...I don't think. He's my reflection."

Finally, the significance of what Tim was saying hit home for Gibbs. What was a reflection but a reversed image of a person? Real or not, Tim knew that principle, probably had figured it out at a fairly young age with how smart he was. The reverse of a good person...a bad one. It was that simple, and that horrifying...if it were true.

If it were true.

"What are you going to do?"

"Stay here."

"And freeze to death?"

"It's better than the alternative."

"Even if it's in your head?"

"Yes...because if it's in my head, it's not going away. It started as a child...and it's come out again. I believe that it was Mit who made me attack my dog in my sleep. Kick him...break his ribs. If not, then I did it. I broke a mirror and believe that my reflection did it. I look at myself and I see a monster staring back at me. This isn't some little quirk, Boss! This is either a horror movie come to life or it's total insanity. I'd rather stay out here."

"I can't let you do that, Tim."

"Yes, you can. You just have to stand up and walk away, pretend you didn't see me. I can go crawl into some bushes and no one else will even notice."

"Tim, look at me."

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because...Boss, I'm crazy enough to be afraid of seeing him reflected in your eyes. I won't look."

Gibbs could see that Tim wasn't kidding. Whatever it was that he saw was bad enough that he wouldn't take any risk of seeing "Mit".

"I still can't let you stay here."

"I still can't leave."

"Then, what's going to happen?"

"I don't know. All I have to do is sit here, Boss. If you want to do something, then you have to decide what you're going to do...but I'm not going to risk leaving and seeing myself in a mirror...or a window...or a computer screen...or anything else that might show my reflection."

"Will you wait here for a minute?"

"I'm not going anywhere."

"Okay."

Gibbs walked over to Tony.

"Ambulance is here, Boss. Ready to move."

"McGee isn't."

"Okay...then...what's going on?"

"As he said, either he's crazy or he's in a horror movie...and he doesn't think it's worth finding out which it is."

"Boss...he thinks he's seeing a monster in the mirror."

"Yeah. Where are the EMTs?"

"By the ambulance."

"Let's go."

Gibbs strode back to the parking lot, Tony in tow.

"Do you guys carry sedatives in that thing?" Gibbs asked, gesturing at the ambulance.

"Yeah. Why?"

"I need you to use one on McGee."

"What for?"

"Because he won't leave here conscious, and he'll freeze if he stays out all night."

"That's what _he_ says?"

"Yes."

"Is he going to fight a sedative?"

"I don't know. I'll ask him."

The EMTs were clearly confused by the situation...and Gibbs didn't blame them. He didn't understand all this either, but he was certain that they had to do _something_. As he and Tony headed back into the trees, Tony looked at Gibbs.

"What's going to happen, Boss?"

"Don't know...but I'm not leaving McGee out here to freeze to death."

"Well...of course...but...this..."

"Spit it out, DiNozzo."

"He might be crazy."

"Yep. He might. Doesn't change anything." He strode ahead.

Tim was still seated on the bench. He hadn't moved really at all.

"Tim?"

"Yeah?"

"I have a possible solution."

"What?"

"We're going to sedate you."

"How will that help?"

"Can you see your reflection if you're unconscious?"

"No...but I'll have to wake up sometime."

"Yeah, but that'll give us the chance to figure something else out."

"I don't want to see him again."

"Okay. Let us put you out for now. I promise...we'll figure out what to do."

"Don't promise something you can't give."

"Will you do this, McGee?"

There was a long pause and then Tim slumped down inside Gibbs' coat.

"Yeah."

"Go get them, Tony," Gibbs said.

He sat down beside Tim once more.

"Aren't you worried about me being crazy?"

"Nope."

"Why not?"

"I don't think you are."

Tim laughed. "How are you going to explain this away?"

"_I'm_ not. Someone smarter will."

"Who?"

"Don't know yet. I will."

"Boss?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

"For what?"

"For not trying to make me believe what I don't believe."

Gibbs smiled. Tim definitely didn't seem crazy to _him_.

"My pleasure."

It didn't take long for the EMTs to join them, sedate Tim and then get him out of the park. He was in the early stages of hypothermia, and they were worried about some possible frostbite, but they didn't think Tim would have to lose anything.

They mostly had to worry about his mind.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Abby stared at her computer, feeling perplexed. The results she was getting from her computer analysis of Tim's message weren't syncing with what she thought she knew. Ducky was sitting in her office, listening to the message with a concerned expression.

She waved frantically at Ducky until he looked up. Then, she gestured for him to join her. He sighed and got to his feet. When the door opened, he raised his eyebrows.

"What is it, Abigail?"

"I need you to tell me what's going on here."

"In what respect?"

"In the respect that there's another voice on this tape."

"Another voice?"

"Yeah! Tim's holding his phone. He's right next to it. I've got _his _voice...creepy as all this is...but there's another voice in the background...and I'm having a real hard time distinguishing it from Tim's voice."

"Really."

"Yeah. It's odd...because it seems like the voice has the exact same timbre as Tim does. Same intonations. Same...same _everything_...but it can't be Tim because the voice is distant, in the background, and Tim is right up at the mouthpiece. So...what could be the other voice? Tim's evil twin?"

"Named..._Mit_ perhaps?"

"Come on, Ducky! This isn't a scifi show! This is real life! Forensics!"

"Yes...and forensics is telling you that there's a voice which sounds exactly like Timothy, but could not be him. Occam's Razor, my dear."

Abby bit her lower lip.

"Clearly, from the message, Timothy had heard _something_. You have already determined that there was a power outage in his area that would coincide with this message. So...it couldn't be anything electronic creating the voice you hear. Someone _had_ to be in that apartment with him."

"But Ziva didn't find anything!"

"Was she looking for anyone other than Timothy?"

"No...but...but Ducky, it sounds like you're going to believe what Tim thinks!"

"Well, I don't know that I'm _quite_ ready to believe all that has been told to us, but I _am_ prepared to believe that there is more going on here than simple insanity. Have you had a chance to look at that garbage can?"

"No. Not yet."

"I think you should."

"Okay..."

Ducky smiled. "I believe that I'll call Ziva and ask her to go back to Timothy's apartment and dust for prints."

"What do you think she'll find?"

"Someone who is after Timothy...for reasons as yet unknown."

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Ziva returned to Tim's apartment, only after reassurances from Tony that Tim was safely found and uninjured. When she went inside, she had the same uneasy feeling she'd had the first time. Something about this place gave her the creeps. With a sigh, she walked around to the reflective surfaces in the apartment and began gathering fingerprints. She didn't think there was anything to find, but she would indulge Ducky this time.

There were prints around the windows, prints around the computer and TV screens. She was satisfied that she'd got enough but then remembered the bathroom. There was a mirror in there.

"This is silly," she said. "There is nothing to find here."

...but she couldn't bring herself _not_ to be thorough when she knew there was something else to do. So she walked into the bathroom...and felt her uneasy feeling increase. For some reason, the bathroom felt rather sinister. She drew her gun and walked slowly, checking every nook and cranny. She saw nothing...but she was much less reluctant to take samples of fingerprints in here. She truly felt as though there was someone else in the room with her, just out of sight.

...and it was not a nice person.

As quickly as she could, she finished her task and took all the prints with and left the apartment as empty as she'd found it.

...but she wasn't sure just _how_ empty that actually was.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

Gibbs sent Tony back to NCIS to see what was going on there, and he took a seat beside his unconscious agent. He'd done his best to cover up all the surfaces that might show a reflection.

As he looked at Tim, he wondered what the truth actually was. When his old C.O. had been lost in a schizophrenic episode, he still had been right about people coming after him. There was truth within the fantasy. Fornell had said it and it was true. "Just because you're paranoid doesn't mean they're not out to get you." The difference between Colonel Ryan and Tim, however, was that Tim knew there were only two options and he wasn't sure which was real. Colonel Ryan hadn't been able to figure that out until the end when he was ready to kill himself just to get rid of the confusion. Tim wasn't in that state. This wasn't schizophrenia. The problem was that he didn't know _what_ it was.

Gibbs had never heard of Occam's Razor, not being up on his medieval philosophy, but if he had, he would have agreed. At this point, the simplest explanation had to be the right one, but the simplest explanation wasn't that Tim was simply crazy. No, right now, he was thinking that Tim had seen _someone_ and that his sleeping pills had given him a hallucination of a childhood terror. ...but even _that_ didn't quite work. ...so he was falling back on what he did know: he would _not _leave Tim to deal with this on his own.

It was silent in the room. After a few minutes, Gibbs thought he saw something out of the corner of his eye and he turned toward the movement...but there was nothing. Only a portion of the window where the slats hadn't quite covered up the glass.

Gibbs stared hard at the glass and then looked at Tim.

Without appearing to hurry, he walked over to the window and moved the slat into place. Then, he sat down beside Tim once more.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

The more evidence they got, the less sense it all made.

...from their point of view, at least.

"Um...this is weird," Abby said.

"Not hinky?" Tony asked.

"No. Hinky has an explanation. This..."

"What is it, Abby?" Ziva asked. "The fingerprints are McGee's, are they not?"

"Well..._most_ of them are." She pulled some samples up on the monitor. "There were two sets of fingerprints that were new on the garbage can."

"What garbage can?" Ziva asked. "I thought you were talking about the prints from McGee's apartment."

"The one from the men's room," Abby said. "Ducky gave it to me to test. There's no glass embedded in it; so it doesn't seem like that's how the mirror was broken. ...and I removed Ducky's fingerprints...and some older ones from maintenance people. ...but there's still two others. Tim's...and..."

"And what?" Tony asked. "Whose are they?"

"They're the...the exact _opposite_ of Tim's fingerprints. The odds of that happening are...astronomically-small! ...unless Tim has an identical twin!"

"His...reflection..." Tony whispered, Tim's words suddenly taking on a whole other meaning.

"What?"

"McGee said...in the men's room...he said that he'd only seen his reflection. His parents said that _Mit_ was Tim's reflection...and before when we were talking about where the monsters were, Tim said his weren't under the bed; they were in the mirror."

"But...a reflection doesn't have fingerprints, Tony!" Abby said.

"...and McGee does not have a twin," Ziva said.

"And the message, Abigail?" Ducky asked.

"I've...isolated the voice."

"May we hear it?"

Abby nodded. She decreased the volume on Tim's voice...which they'd all heard anyway.

"_Tim, come and play!"_

They heard Tim's breathing faintly behind the augmented voice.

"_Hang up the phone, Tim. I can hear you!"_

After a few more seconds of breathing, the message ended. There was a long silence in Abby's lab after that.

"That...sounded...like..."

"Like McGee," Ziva said. She looked at Tony and then at Abby. "Is this a joke?"

"No," Abby said. "No, it's not a joke. That's the voice from the message. ...and it can't be Tim because Tim's breathing never stops. He's always right by the phone. Whoever is talking...sounds just like him, but it can't _be_ him."

"If it can't be Timothy, then it must be someone else...and you know who Timothy has said it is," Ducky said.

"His reflection."

"Yes."

"How could this even be _remotely_ possible?" Tony asked.

"Perhaps someone is making Timothy _think_ it is his childhood fear come back again."

"Who?"

"That I don't know."

"How is he?" Abby asked.

"Sedated," Tony said. "I don't know how long they're going to keep him that way."

"He cannot stay asleep forever," Ziva said.

"Well, Gibbs was more worried about getting him out of the park. They'll let him wake up eventually."

"And what will happen then?"

"I don't know."

"Anthony, I would like to go and visit Timothy. Are you going back there?"

"Yeah. I need to tell Gibbs what's going on."

"Could I ride with you?"

"Yeah. You guys coming?" Tony asked, looking at Ziva and Abby.

Abby was ready to say yes. It was written all over her face, but then she shook her head.

"No. I'm going to figure this out. I still have all the stuff from Tim's place to go through. I'm going to get to the bottom of it. There's an explanation."

"I will stay and help," Ziva said.

"All right. Let's go, Ducky."

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Gibbs was worried...mostly because he was at a loss of what to do. The doctors had decided that it was time for Tim to wake up, particularly since there was nothing physically requiring his unconsciousness. So...now, he was just waiting for Tim to wake up.

Ducky and Tony were sitting with him. Their report had done nothing to make his decision easier. There was _something_ going on, but what?

Tim's eyes fluttered open.

"McGee?"

He was awake _very_ quickly. Even though it was clear that Tim was still suffering from the effects of the sedative, he was instantly looking around for a threat. ...for Mit.

"McGee."

He closed his eyes and sat up.

"McGee!"

"Did you figure something out, Boss?" he asked. "Because I'm not happy about being here."

"Not yet."

"Then, what are you going to do?"

"We won't leave you alone, McGee."

Tim just laughed. "It's not really going to help. Not anymore."

"How do you know that, Probie? You just woke up."

"I know. Since you don't really believe me...there's no real point to trying to explain it. I just know."

"Do you have any ideas...if Mit is real, Timothy?"

Tim cracked open an eye and looked at Ducky. Then, he looked at the covered windows...and then at Gibbs and he shook his head. Gibbs sighed and picked up his coat. He walked over to Tim and handed it to him.

"Come on, Tim."

"Jethro?"

"We're going for a walk, Ducky. You want to come?"

Tony grabbed his own coat and stood.

"Coming, Boss."

"Of course, Jethro."

The quartet left the room, but Tim instantly closed his eyes as they walked through the halls. Gibbs grabbed Tim's arm and led him to the stairs. Tim stumbled a few times, but he refused to open his eyes. They went up the stairs to the roof, out into the middle of it.

"No windows. No mirrors. Open your eyes, Tim."

Tim shivered and looked around the roof.

"Satisfied?" Gibbs asked.

"Yeah. Satisfied. You seem closer to believing me than you were before."

"We found some fingerprints on the garbage can that weren't yours, Probie."

Tim actually smiled a little. "Let me guess...you don't know whose they are, but they're similar to mine."

"Not similar. The exact reverse."

"Which is only found occasionally in identical twins, Timothy," Ducky added.

"I'm not a twin, Ducky. No chance of that."

"And you feel the only other explanation..."

Tim laughed sadly. "Ducky...I wish I was wrong about this. If you can prove that I am, please do." He looked around the roof and out over the lights of DC. "Those two years when I was a kid and _friends_ with Mit were the worst of my life. I didn't know how to tell anyone about him. I...I was afraid of getting in trouble."

"Why?" Ducky asked.

"Because...because I _asked_ Mit to come. We had been moving around so much with Dad's work in the Navy. He was climbing the ladder and we were willing to come along...but it wasn't good for making friends." He laughed shakily. "You know me. Not good at it. And...one morning...when we'd moved yet again, I looked into my bathroom mirror and I wished that I could find a friend there." Tears threatened to fall. "...and Mit answered me. At first, it was fun, but then...then, he started getting...sinister. I was _so_ afraid of him. ...and seeing him again now...and he's worse than he was."

Tim turned away from them all for a few seconds and just breathed. Then, he turned back.

"Tell me that it's all in my head and that there's a rational, non-horror-movie explanation for what I'm seeing. Please. I don't...I don't want to face him ever again. I rejected him when I was young and now, he's ready to...get revenge for that. I've already hurt my dog because of him. I cut my own hand in the men's room. I...I'm afraid of what he'll make me do when he gets stronger...or what he'll do himself. I...I don't..."

_Thwack!_

"Start thinking, McGee," Gibbs said.

"About what, Boss?"

"About what you're going to do to stop him."

Tim looked at Gibbs and then, glanced at Tony and Ducky...and then back at Gibbs.

"Are you saying you believe me, Boss?"

"I believe that there's something more going on here, and we need to figure out what to do. If your story is wrong, then we'll figure something else out."

"And just what do you think that is?" Tim asked.

Gibbs' phone rang.

Tim swallowed and looked away as Gibbs pulled it out of his pocket.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"This is not possible, Ziva," Abby said. "It's not. I don't understand how this could possibly be happening."

"What is it?" Ziva asked. "These are the fingerprints from McGee's apartment, yes?"

"Yes...and they're the same ones as are on the garbage can."

Ziva looked over Abby's shoulder. "What? That is not possible."

"I know. It's reverse-Tim fingerprints."

"Could this be...faked in some way?" Ziva asked.

"I guess...but who and why? ...and it would not be easy to do that! And it doesn't make sense for someone to do that!"

"Yes...but the alternative is an evil person in McGee's mirrors!"

"Did you notice anything in Tim's apartment when you were there?" Abby asked.

"I...I did not _see_ anything."

"But?"

"But...it did not..._feel_ right. I felt like there was someone there, but there was no one there."

"...Tim would say it was Mit."

Abby chewed on her lower lip.

"Ziva?"

"Yes?"

"What if Tim is right?"

"Right?"

"About...an evil specter in his mirror."

"How could it be possible?"

"I...don't know? ...but this is something that...there's...there's the voice that sounds just like Tim but can't be him. There's the fingerprints in more than one place that are the exact opposite of Tim's fingerprints. ...and he's not a twin! I can't think of anything to explain it."

"I cannot, either. It is...unbelievable, but...there is...nothing I can think of."

Abby sighed and pulled out her phone.

"Gibbs? I don't know if you'll like this news."

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Gibbs hung up his phone and slid it safely into his pocket.

"McGee?"

"Yeah?"

"Abby and Ziva believe you."

Tim opened his eyes and stared.

"What?"

"You've got Ziva and Abby believing you."

"Why?"

Gibbs chuckled. "Because of the evidence. They're coming over here."

"What new evidence is there, Jethro?" Ducky asked.

"Fingerprints in McGee's apartment the same as on the garbage can."

"The reverse of Timothy's?"

"Yep."

"I...don't know if I'm happy about that."

"Can't have everything, Probie."

"I know. I don't...know what to do, though."

"Start thinking, then," Tony said. "It's not like we can get help from anyone else for this. ...if there's really an evil you living in a mirror."

"If there is...I don't know what to do to stop him, Tony," Tim said. "I didn't stop him before. I don't know if I can stop him now. He holds all the cards."

"Not anymore he doesn't," Gibbs said. "Now, you've got other people on your side."

"He doesn't come out when people are around, Boss," Tim said. "You're never going to see him, even if you really _do_ believe me."

Gibbs smiled.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

Gibbs and Tim pulled up to Tim's apartment building. Tim's eyes were closed.

"You're home, McGee."

"I don't like this, Boss. I really don't."

"It'll work out."

"No...I don't think it will. I..."

Tim looked at the sideview mirror, opened the door and got out of the car as quickly as he could. Gibbs watched him run into his apartment. He hoped this would work out.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim stopped at his door. He didn't want to go inside. He didn't want to face what he knew would be in there. No matter what Gibbs said, he wasn't sure he could hack it. This childhood terror had been stronger than he was...without fail.

But nothing would happen if he didn't open the door and go inside. ...so he did.

Instantly, he felt the chill of Mit's presence. It wasn't a physical sensation.

It was evil.

"_Ah, Tim. You're back. I didn't like it when you ran away."_

Tim said nothing.

"_I want to show you something, Tim. Come to the window."_

Tim resisted, but his feet moved of their own accord, and he walked to the window.

...but for once, he didn't try to look through it. He focused on the window...and the reflection he could see.

Mit looked _very_ solid in the window. Not just a reflection.

"_Are you surprised? I like it. Don't you?"_

"No. No, I don't like it, Mit."

Mit's eyes narrowed.

"_That makes me mad, Tim. You know what happens when I get mad?"_

Tim tried to stand his ground, but he didn't say anything because he was afraid his voice would shake.

"_I'm sorry, Tim, but you've gone too far. You don't want me around and I don't like that. I don't think we can be friends anymore. So..."_

There was a flash of light that hit Tim like a hammer and then lights seemed to explode in his head.

...followed by complete darkness.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"This has got to be the weirdest thing I've ever done on a stakeout," Tony said.

"Why?" Ziva asked.

"Because I'm watching McGee's apartment to see if a monster is going to show up in his mirror or in his window. That's bizarre, Ziva!"

"Yes, but...what explanation is there that fits with what we have seen?"

"I don't know...but a monster in the window?"

"Wait. He is inside. He does not look happy."

"I wouldn't be either, if I were in his place," Tony said. "...actually, I'm not too happy right now."

Ziva went very still.

"What?"

"Look at the window, Tony."

Tony aimed the camera...and then pulled back and swore loudly.

"What the..What is _that_?"

"A monster," Ziva whispered.

...and then a voice came through...

"_Ah, Tim. You're back. I didn't like it when you ran away."_

Tony looked at Ziva. She stared back.

"He's real."

"Yes."

"He's not in the window, though. That's...something...real, Ziva."

She nodded. Tony reached for his phone to tell Gibbs that they'd got proof...but then, he heard Mit speaking again.

"_...I don't think we can be friends anymore."_

There was a burst of light from the apartment. It resulted in a squeal of interference in the microphone and shorted out the camera.

"Whoa!" he said and dialed more quickly. "Boss, something just happened in there. Get inside. Now."

Gibbs said nothing, but Tony knew he'd be moving. He and Ziva exchanged one more glance and then got up to run across the street themselves. The equipment was fried. There was no point in staying here. Besides, they had something to do.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Gibbs burst into Tim's apartment, and saw a prone figure on the floor in the darkness...and another figure standing facing him.

It looked like Tim, but it wasn't. There was something in the way he stood, something in the eyes. Gibbs drew his gun.

"B-Boss...don't. You don't want to..." The voice started out quavery, but then, he started to laugh. "Sorry. I can't pull it off. I'm relieved that you think you know who I am...because I couldn't bear being that sniveling little man." He laughed again. It was a sickening sound. "He's such a weakling. No better now than when he was a ten-year-old."

"Who are you?"

"I'm Mit, of course. Little Timmy's dear friend." The loathing was palpable.

"What did you do to him?"

"Nothing much...just used him a bit. I've been trying to get out of that mirror for years."

"What are you?"

"A demon? A devil? I prefer a _shaytān_...perhaps even a _jinn_. Those come closest. I think you'd call me evil, for sure. ...but I don't think that's so bad. After all, do you really want someone like _him_ around in the world?" He pointed at Tim's unmoving form...and it twitched. "He's such a _wuss_."

"Yes, I do. Much more than I want you, actually."

The eyes...the eyes that _should_ be Tim's eyes, but weren't in the worst way. They narrowed and almost seemed to turn red for a moment.

"Well, you're too late," he said, almost hissing. "I've been planning this ever since he first pushed me away. I was so close to getting him before. So _close_." Mit's teeth clenched in fury. "And I got close to him a few times after."

"His sleepwalking?"

Another horrible smile on the not-Tim's lips.

"Bingo. You got it...but it took too much energy and I had to rebuild it every time he resisted. That's what the walking was, you know. His resisting. It wasn't _me _forcing him to walk. He was trying to get away from me. Can't imagine why."

"Really."

"I'm not a liar. I'm a lot of things, but not that. There's no need for lies. I bided my time...and it worked."

"How?"

"That's for me to know. This time. I'm free."

Mit whirled around in a circle, laughing, and a strong wind hit Gibbs, forcing him to step backwards a few steps.

"Come on! This is fun!" he said, almost giddily.

Another burst of air knocked Gibbs back and he dropped his gun...or rather, it felt like it was ripped from his hands.

"Stop!"

The voice wasn't from Gibbs...and he couldn't say why he knew it, but it wasn't from Mit either. It was trembling and weak.

The wind died down suddenly.

"What?"

Tim started to push himself up off the floor...but Mit grabbed him and yanked him to his feet. Gibbs took a step forward but a single blast of wind knocked him off his feet.

"You do _not_ dictate to me anymore!" Mit shouted. "I'm in control now!"

He shook Tim like a rag doll...and Tim seemed unable to fight against him. In fact, Gibbs thought he was looking almost translucent...and Mit was looking more solid.

Tim looked back at Gibbs for a moment and took a deep breath and nodded.

"Now!" Gibbs shouted, hoping that Tony and Ziva were in place.

They were taking a gamble anyway. Mit didn't like the light. He was a reflection...or he _had_ been. ...and Tim had used that as a guide to taking him down...and as a guide to MacGyvering something useful. It had actually been amazing watching him work dismantling some high-intensity lights to create a...weapon of some kind. Tim had tried to explain it, but it had gone over Gibbs' head.

The sudden shining beams refocused Gibbs. He dove for his gun as Mit began shrieking in pain. Gibbs grabbed it and turned, catching a brief glimpse of Tony and Ziva aiming the...lasers? ...at Mit. Suddenly, Mit grabbed Tim and dragged him out of the front room into the bedroom..

"I won't go back!" he shouted. "I won't!"

"Stop!" Tim shouted again. "No!"

A wall of wind kept Gibbs from following.

"You're mine!"

"Not now! Not _ever_!"

There was a high-pitched scream and then an explosion of light.

...and the wind vanished.

Gibbs ran into the bedroom...and then into the bathroom.

"Boss!" Tony called.

"In here!" Gibbs shouted.

Tim was in a heap on the floor, between the wall and toilet. The mirror in the bathroom was in pieces. Tim's breathing was erratic and there was a long thin cut on his forehead, blood running down his face.

Tony and Ziva crowded into the small room, looking around wildly.

"Where is he? Mit? Where is he?" Tony asked.

"I don't see him anywhere," Gibbs said.

"That does not mean he is not here," Ziva said, her eyes narrowed suspiciously.

A weak hand touched Gibbs' arm. He looked down and saw Tim's eyes. It was most definitely Tim and not Mit.

"Gone..." he whispered softly.

"Mit?"

Tim nodded.

"Permanently?"

"I don't know..." Tim's eyes rolled up in his head and he sagged lower, falling unconscious.

"What happened in here?" Tony asked.

"Don't know, Tony. We can worry about that later. Get him to his bed."

Tony nodded and slipped the little laser-thing into his pocket. He and Gibbs got Tim out of the corner and then Ziva helped them get Tim into his bedroom. The cut wasn't deep. They got the bleeding stopped quickly, but they called Ducky to have him come and check Tim over.

They were all bursting with curiosity about what had happened...and they all wanted to know whether or not Mit was gone for good.

"This place...it does not feel the same as it did," Ziva said as they sat beside Tim's bed, waiting for him to awaken, watching Ducky evaluate Tim's status.

"In a good way or a bad way?" Tony asked.

"In a good way, I think. The last time I came here...it was...oppressive. Now, it is...empty."

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"Timothy?" Ducky asked, shaking him gently. "Timothy?"

Tim's eyes opened slightly once more.

"Ducky?" he asked. "How did...you get here?"

"You've been asleep for quite some time," Ducky said with a smile. "How are you feeling?"

"Sleep..."

"All right, lad. Go ahead. Conversations can wait."

Tim sighed and fell asleep.

"What happened?" Ducky asked.

"Mit came...out of the mirror," Tony said. "Or out of the window, I guess. He shorted out the camera and the microphone. He was..." He looked at Ziva helplessly.

"It was as though he was sucking the life out of Tim to make himself more powerful. I did not like seeing McGee so weak."

Tony nodded. "Then, he took Tim into the bathroom. We heard a scream, an explosion...and we found Tim alone in the bathroom when we got in there. I don't know what happened."

"Very well. We should keep a close watch over him, but he is not seriously injured. The cut looks worse than it is."

"Is Mit gone, Ducky?" Tony asked.

"I couldn't venture a guess. We'll have to wait for Timothy to awaken."

They all stared at the slumbering figure. Whatever secrets Tim still kept were locked inside until he woke up.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: **My mistake. This is the last chapter. I thought there were 12 chapters. Apparently, I can't count.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 11<strong>

Tim woke up with a start and looked around for Mit. It didn't seem possible that he could have won so easily. He remembered shoving Mit back toward the mirror. He'd hit it, screamed and then disappeared. Could it be that easy?

Somehow, he doubted it.

Tim pulled himself to a sitting position.

"Timothy, you're awake!"

Tim glanced toward Ducky for a moment, but then he looked back toward the bathroom.

"Timothy?"

"How long has it been, Ducky? How long was I out?"

"A couple of hours, I believe. It's fairly late."

"Probie!"

Tim looked toward Tony...and he shook his head.

"It's not over."

"What do you mean? You said he disappeared," Tony said, furrowing his brow.

"He disappeared when I was ten years old, too. ...and he still came back. It was too easy."

Tim started to get off his bed, but Ducky caught his arm.

"Timothy, you've had a rough time of it. Perhaps..."

"No, Ducky!" Tim pulled his arm away and stood up, looking around, wanting some sign of success or failure. This limbo was unacceptable.

"McGee?"

Tim looked back at the doorway to his room one more time. Gibbs and Ziva were there, looking at him.

"It's not over, Boss. It can't be. It doesn't feel right. It's not...It was too easy."

Gibbs looked at him for a few seconds, evaluating.

"Boss, I've had way more interactions with him than any of you. I _know_ that this was too easy. Please...just trust me this once!"

"What do you want to do, McGee?" Gibbs asked.

"I don't know, but I know that..."

Tim actually sensed the change in the room before he saw anything. He turned toward the window and vaguely heard Tony asking him what he was doing.

Then, the window over his bed exploded, shattered into pieces. The shards of glass swirled around and around a central point. Tim staggered backwards. He felt a hand on his arm, urging him back, but this time, he was determined not to let this happen again. It had to be ended. Once and for all. His idea to use the lights had been only partially successful.

Mit resumed his shape in the midst of the swirling pieces of glass, and Tim felt himself weaken as Mit sucked away his life to fuel his own.

"No more of this, Mit!" he shouted over the wind. "No more!"

"You have no power over me now! None!"

"Oh, really?"

Ignoring the movement behind him, Tim bent over, pulled a concealed knife from a sheath around his ankle and threw himself through the glass-and-wind wall. He ignored the cuts from the glass.

"You wanted a body...here's how it feels to have one!"

He took the knife and rammed it into the chest of his childhood demon. He pushed it as hard as he could and then twisted it.

"How does _that_ feel?" he shouted.

Mit shrieked and grabbed Tim around the neck.

"You're coming with me! I won't let go! We're going together!"

Tim would have thought of something to retort if he could have talked. As it was, Mit's very-corporeal fingers were digging into his neck, choking off the air, bruising his windpipe. Instead, he did the only thing he could, and that was drive the knife further into Mit's body.

"If I die, you die, too!" Mit shouted.

Then, there was a roar of sound, coming from behind him. One roar and then another roar...and then Mit's hands were falling away...the wind was lessening, less glass flying around. Other hands grabbed his arms.

"NO!" Mit screamed.

Another roar of sound echoed in Tim's ears, and his vision was going black, but he struggled to stay conscious, to see what would happen.

"Never...again..." Tim choked out in a whisper. "You...are...nothing..."

One last wail and Mit exploded, the pieces flying outward like bits of sand, bits of glass...and then, he was gone.

Tim stared at the place where he had been for a few seconds and then he felt as though he had no energy at all, nothing to keep him upright, certainly nothing to keep him conscious and he let the blackness take over, even as he heard voices talking to him. He couldn't fight the darkness and he had no real desire to. It was easier to give in.

The hands that had held him up now eased him to the floor and he heard only one voice clearly. It was whispered, but it was right by his ear.

"Don't let go, McGee. Don't let him win."

Win? What? Tim didn't understand and things were getting more and more distant. The hands on his arms were fading away.

"Keep breathing. Breathe, McGee."

Tim inhaled and, to his surprise, the feeling of the hands returned. He exhaled and then inhaled again and felt an ache in his throat.

He struggled to open his eyes again.

"Stay with us, Probie."

Tim tried to look around, but that was beyond him. He could only look at what was right in front of his face.

"That's good, Timothy. Just keep breathing and stay still. I don't think the cuts are too serious."

Cuts? What cuts?

"Just breathe, McGee. Don't worry about anything else."

An unfamiliar sound to the side of him and something around his arm.

It was so quiet.

A small hiss of air.

"Good. His blood pressure is rising and the heart rate is becoming regular again. I believe we're passed the worst of it."

"But of _what_?"

There was a low chuckle.

"That I can't tell you, Anthony. Whatever it was, it's gone now."

Tim took another deep breath and his eyes stayed open longer. Tony's faced loomed large over him for a moment.

"Welcome back, Probie."

"...back?" Tim breathed.

"Yes, you were...gone for a moment," Ziva said softly. He couldn't see her, but he heard her voice.

"...gone?"

"Well, your body wasn't, but you sure weren't here."

Tim thought he might have smiled.

"You seem to be getting some color back in your cheeks. Would you be averse to being moved off the floor?" Ducky asked.

"...as...long...as I don't...have...to...move myself."

Tony laughed. "We'll move you, McGee. Never fear."

Another possible smile.

"Not...anymore..."

A feeling of flying and then one of softness...and Tim was lying on his own bed. He still didn't feel able to do much moving, but he was feeling better all the time.

"Tired," he said.

"Would you like to sleep again, Timothy?"

"Yes."

"Very well. We will stay and watch to make sure nothing goes wrong. You may feel free to sleep."

"Family...coming."

"If you're still asleep when they arrive, we'll tell them where you are and what happened...as much as we can."

Tim nodded and let his eyes close again.

"You're safe, Timothy."

...and that was a nice feeling.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

_The next morning..._

Tim awakened with the feeling of arms around him. Hoping desperately that it wasn't someone like Tony...or Ducky...or Gibbs...he chanced opening his eyes...and sighed with relief when he saw it was Abby.

The movement woke her up and she looked at him, smiled and then hugged him tightly and let open the floodgates.

"Oh, Tim! You're awake! I was so worried about you! First, all those things we found! Then, the plan you guys made! Then, I had to stay behind in case something happened! Then, they told me what happened and that it _was_ bad and I had to wait until they made sure you were okay and then I came and you were asleep! ...and I had to let you sleep and you like this and..."

"...like what?" Tim asked, now a little worried.

"Haven't you seen yourself, Tim?" she asked...and then looked horrified. "I mean...you yourself, not the reflection self that was weird and and really real...and really hinky and..._evil_. I just..."

Tim pushed himself upright and was relieved to find that he could do it feeling only a bit dizzy.

"Abby...what are you talking about?"

"Your face! It's all...cut up!"

"It is?"

"Don't you remember what happened?"

"Uh..." Tim thought back and then realized that, yes, there had been some glass flying around...and he seemed to remember running through it. "Yes. I remember. I look bad?"

"Yeah. It's like someone went psycho and gave you a hundred paper cuts."

"Paper cuts?" Tim asked, wondering if he should feel insulted by that.

"Well...maybe not paper cuts...but there are lots of them. I would show you, but your bathroom mirror is broken...and they had to put up plywood over your window. You didn't even twitch when they were nailing it up."

"I was really tired."

Abby's expression turned serious. "You were more than tired from what Tony and Ziva said. It was like you died."

Tim thought about it. "Mit did say that he was going to take me with him. Maybe he got closer than I thought he did."

"Mit."

"Yes."

"I have to believe you, Tim...because nothing else explains what I've seen and what everyone else saw, but..."

"It's unbelievable."

"Yeah."

"I just want it to be over...never to be seen again."

"Do you think it is?"

"I don't know. I'm not really sure. I want to think so..."

Abby hugged him again.

"At least now we know."

Tim hugged her back. "I like that."

He looked back behind him at the boarded-up window.

"They really did that while I was asleep?"

Abby smiled. "Yeah. Tony had to check to make sure you hadn't died when they were pounding nails."

"I didn't."

"I'm really glad."

"Me, too." Tim furrowed his brow. "...my parents? Did they come?"

Abby smiled. "They did. I think Gibbs and Ducky gave you a reprieve."

"Great."

Tim leaned back in bed and just listened to the silence. He didn't have the shadowy feeling of Mit...feeding off him. It was a feeling that had been with him for almost his entire life only he hadn't really noticed it before. He felt...free.

"Abby?"

"Yeah?"

"I think he's gone. For good."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

Abby hugged him once more.

"Good."

Tim couldn't agree more.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

_Two weeks later..._

Tim opened his eyes and looked at the window. It had just been put in yesterday. Then, he got up and walked into the bathroom. He stood in front of the mirror for a long time.

The only thing he saw was his reflection. His _real_ reflection.

It was a relief.

Jethro barked from the living room and Tim looked away. Out of habit, he turned quickly back to the mirror.

Only his reflection.

Mit was gone.

Tim smiled and left the bathroom.

FINIS!


End file.
